Diamonds On The Inside
by Steerpike
Summary: A story of Ginny and her housemates as they're sent to the Muggle world to deal with the aftermath of the war.
1. Moving In

Chapter One  
Moving In  
  
When you're near, there's such an air of spring about it,  
I can hear a lark somewhere begging to sing about it.  
There is no love so finer but how strange,  
The change from major to minor,  
Every time we say goodbye.  
  
Rod Stewart "Every Time We Say Goodbye"   
  
"God, we're finally here." Lavender Brown, Ginny's new share-housing mate said, stretching out within the confines of the car. "Bloody Muggles. Why haven't they invented Floo powder yet?"  
  
Susan Bones, the driver of the vehicle, laughed.  
  
"C'mon, Lav! The wizarding world can't give away all their secrets!"  
  
Ginny Weasley grinned at Lavender.  
  
"Ah, you'll love living in the Muggle world. We all will. My dad has been telling me all sorts of things about Muggles lately." She paused. "Actually, I think he's kind of jealous that I'm the one coming here to study and not him!"  
  
"Parents!" Lavender rolled her eyes. She twisted around in her seat and stopped abruptly. "Merlin! What are these stupid inventions for? Seatbelts! Whoever heard of such a thing?"  
  
"Didn't you pay attention in Muggle Studies at Hogwarts?" Susan asked sternly.  
  
"I didn't go to Hogwarts," Lavender said grumpily. "I was home-schooled by a family of Squibs before attending, of all places, Beauxbaxtons. Oh, don't look at me like that, Susan. I'm kidding. My mother just wasn't Rowena Ravenclaw at magic."  
  
"Funny, that," Susan said dryly, snapping the steering lock into place.  
  
Ginny laughed and got out of the beat-up, rusty old Holden that her father had procured for them. She could tell that adjusting to life in the Muggle world wasn't going to be the easiest of tasks with fun-loving Lavender around. It was a weird enough situation that the girls had found themselves in. Post-war regulations required more witches and wizards out in the Muggle world to help the Muggles along and also further wizarding research. No one had ever dreamed that Voldemort would attack the Muggle world when he finally made his big strike. The new Minister had decided that Muggle Relations needed to be improved extensively.  
  
"Owww!" Lavender moaned from within in the car. "How do you take these stupid things OFF?"  
  
Ginny giggled. "Who would've thought that you would be coming here to study Muggle science, Lav?" she called out teasingly. "The science of seatbelts didn't exactly win someone a Nobel prize!"  
  
Lavender harrumphed and pointedly ignored the comment. That had been another surprise. Lavender, turning to science? Everyone had been certain she'd turn out to be a Seer. But after Professor Trelawney had been scientifically proven to be nothing more than a fraud, Lavender had lost all faith in the subject.  
  
Susan got out and looked at the house. "Looks... old," she said cautiously.  
  
Ginny nodded excitedly. "It's going to add to the charm of this place."  
  
"Charm. I miss charms already," Ginny heard Lavender proclaiming mournfully as she headed up the walk.  
  
Ginny laughed to herself and stepped up onto the verandah. She saw that it needed sweeping, and smiled. A chance to try cleaning the Muggle way, she thought. Or just another good taste of home!  
  
Ginny put the key in the lock on the heavy wooden door, turning it. "Home sweet home, girls!" she called merrily, stepping into the house. "Wow. It's so old..."  
  
Ginny walked into the centre of the foyer, her face lit with excitement. She could hear Lavender struggling up the path behind her with her trunk. She glanced around the hall which was bathed in darkness. She could see a huge staircase to the left, and polished wooden floors below her. She inhaled deeply. It smelt old. She was impressed.  
  
"I wonder if the person we're sharing with is here yet?" Lavender asked, peering into the gloom. She dumped her trunk on the floor. "Gees, where's a light?"  
  
"Dunno." Ginny placed her fingers on the wall, feeling for the switch. "Ah."  
  
The light flooded into the hallway.  
  
"Oh Lav, it's so pretty. Look at all the old designs in the ceiling!"  
  
Lavender wrinkled her nose. "And smell the divine dust and moth-eaten carpet."  
  
"Try to see the romance in the situation," Ginny chided, going into a room to the left. "Oh. Oh. Wow. This is so going to be my room."  
  
Lavender poked her head into the room and furrowed her brow. "It's... lovely... Reminds me of my grandmother's place, really, minus all the bizarre olden day wizard stuff she has hanging around collecting dust. Bleh, I'm probably going to inherit it all one day too."  
  
"Oh, I know you hate all the old-styled stuff. But I love it!" Ginny said enthusiastically. "A mantelpiece, a window seat-- oh man, check out the ceiling!"  
  
"Where have you girls got to?" Susan called, putting her trunks on the floor with a heavy thud. She poked her head around the door. "Oh, you're in here- my Lord."  
  
"Isn't it gorgeous?" Ginny exclaimed exuberantly.  
  
"It's garish," Susan said flatly.  
  
"You can have it," Lavender agreed. "I'm going upstairs to find a real bedroom, with an ensuite and a four-poster bed. And let's not forget the all-important full-length mirror." She picked up her trunk again, groaning. "I swear it never used to be this heavy."  
  
"That, my dear," Susan said tactfully, "is because you were never allowed to take all your cosmetics to Hogwarts before."  
  
"Spoilsports," Lavender muttered. "I'm going upstairs." She departed the scene, emitting grunts and curses all the way up the staircase. Susan laughed at Lavender's disappearing form, leaning against the frame of Ginny's door.  
  
"That girl is going to be highly entertaining," Susan said wryly, watching Ginny inspect the room.  
  
Ginny glanced up from running a finger along the windowsill and smiled at Susan. "Well, of course. What else did you expect?" She laughed. "Oh, I forgot—you're not used to sharing a common room with her!"  
  
"Definitely not!" Susan shuddered. "I wasn't so keen on Lavender when I was at Hogwarts. She was too prissy for me... and she sucked up to Trelawney something chronic. Divination was bad enough without adding Lavender's high- pitched voice squealing, 'Oh, Professor! I think I can see an orange cloud in the crystal ball! What does it mean? Am I going to die?' every single week."  
  
Ginny laughed again, stretching upwards. "Like I said, you just weren't used to her. She has her heart in the right place."  
  
"Oh, I know that now," Susan said reflectively. "Working with her in the war efforts really cleared up any doubts in my mind that she's really just pretending to be a ditz." Susan grinned. "Who would've thought that Lavender would turn to the science of magic after Hogwarts? And now to furthering Muggle science! It's amazing."  
  
"Yeah, it is," Ginny agreed. She looked at Susan curiously. "Are you ready to work in the Muggle hospitals?" Susan hadn't said anything about her thoughts on being assigned to work as a nurse in Muggle hospitals instead of St. Mungo's. No one had a choice in these matters anymore. Not until all the debris from the war had been cleared away.  
  
"Oh, I suppose!" Susan said cheerfully, turning to leave. "Have to be, don't I?" She flashed Ginny another quick smile before heading up the staircase after Lavender.  
  
"I suppose..." Ginny said thoughtfully. They all had to be. 


	2. The Truth Is Out There

Chapter Two  
The Truth Is Out There  
  
The souls that burn will twist and turn  
And find you in the dark, no matter where you run  
She's made her mark, but lost her star  
And what she's pushing for, she can't remember  
  
Natalie Imbruglia "Come September"  
  
Ginny was enveloped in a cocoon of warmth, the blankets and coverlet pulled up to her chin and snuggled around her. Her pillows were just the right height and her bed-socks were still on her feet, for a change. Her hot water-bottle was cold but it had fallen off the end of the bed anyway. She sighed luxuriously and wriggled further down, deliciously comfortable. The sun was peeking around the edges of her blinds, the light dulled by the curtains. Her eyes were closed and a smile played about her lips as she drifted into and out of states of consciousness, enjoying a lucid dream involving a very good-looking Quidditch player and a bubble-bath.  
  
The alarm went off and Ginny jerked, startled. She opened her eyes slowly and peered at the contraption. She'd never needed any sort of alarm before leaving Hogwarts; all the girls moving about the dormitory had always roused her. After Hogwarts, she'd charmed her wand to wake her – but that was only if she really, desperately needed to be up by a certain time. Usually, Ginny awoke as the sunlight stole over the land and infiltrated her bedroom. She preferred to take her time about arising in the morning. She wasn't the world's most affable person first thing, as her bunkmates had found out almost immediately. She glared at the alarm clock. It was a Muggle alarm clock, for a start. Her father had told her, quite reasonably, that if they ever had Muggle visitors, they'd probably wonder about singing, polished sticks that served as alarm clocks. So now she was stuck with a silver, metallic-looking round thing that had flashing blue numbers and could raise the dead with its squawk.  
  
Ginny moved her arm out from under the warmth and winced briefly at the cold air in the room before slapping at the alarm clock a number of times, trying to make it be quiet. But it wouldn't desist from ringing loudly. She sat up quickly, turned to the clock and picked it up, examining it closely. Where was the 'Off' button? Or at the very least, a 'Shut the hell up' button? She turned it upside, grimacing as the ringing became louder. She squinted at the small print next to a tiny button. 'Reset'. Frowning, she pried her nail in beside it and pushed it over. To her relief, the ringing stopped. She turned the clock over and read the buttons on top of it. As far as she could make out, there was only a button marked 'Snooze', another marked 'Sleep' and the buttons to set the display. She'd have to figure it out later – if she didn't get out of that bed in the next minute or so, she'd end up being late for her first day of work at the British Division of Investigation.  
  
"Good morning!" Susan sang out cheerfully from her place at the kitchen table, grinning at Ginny. Susan must've been up for hours, Ginny thought. She had that early-morning glow to her face that one attains when they get up early and exercise. She was also showered, dressed, had her hair done, make-up applied, the kitchen was clean, she was eating her breakfast - Ginny was willing to bet that Susan had made her bed too.  
  
"Morning," Ginny greeted Susan, coming to a halt on the linoleum floor. "I see you're ready to face the day!"  
  
"Sure am!" Susan agreed, taking another spoonful of cereal from her bowl. She chewed while Ginny went to the fridge and got herself a bowl of muesli. Ginny sat down at the table and poured the milk, admiring the blue and white china jug that housed it.  
  
"Is that the Elm pattern?" she asked curiously, glancing at it a second time. "It's lovely." The Elm Patterned dinner sets were very popular among pure-blooded wizarding families a number of decades ago. To find a milk jug with the Elm pattern on it, still intact, was something of a rare treasure.  
  
"Yeah, it belonged to my grandmother," Susan responded, glancing at the jug fondly. Ginny smiled, putting the milk back in its place and searching out a spoon. "Spoons are in the second drawer from the left," Susan reminded her.  
  
"Oh, sure; I was the one who put them there too. One of those days, I suppose!" Ginny laughed. "Don't know that that's the best way to start off the first day of work!" She got up and found herself a spoon, beginning to eat her breakfast. "Where's Lav?"  
  
"Bathroom." Susan finished her cereal and put the bowl on the sink, beginning to run the water. "We're not supposed to use magic to do the dishes, are we?"  
  
Ginny looked up in amusement. "Well, they said that we weren't to use magic around Muggles or Muggle artifacts... I guess the dishes count, but I'm not going to rat on you if you Scourgify a few dishes here and there!"  
  
Susan grinned ruefully, turning the tap off and pulling on the rubber gloves. "I may as well get used to this sooner rather than later... I won't be able to clean bedpans at the hospital with magic."  
  
"Susan!" Ginny chided her. "I'm eating!"  
  
Susan just laughed, washing up her bowl and the number of mugs that had appeared in the sink overnight. "Looks like Lav had a fix of hot chocolate last night."  
  
"Nah, that was me," Ginny admitted. She took another spoonful of the muesli into her mouth.  
  
"Ginny!" Susan mimicked Ginny's earlier shocked tone. "Couldn't be bothered washing them up?"  
  
"Couldn't even be bothered leaving my bed," Ginny said with a laugh.  
  
Susan put soapy hands on her hips. "You mean to say that you used magic to send your cups to the sink without even leaving your bed?"  
  
"Yes," Ginny replied. Seeing the look on Susan's face, she laughed again. "Oh, c'mon. I'll make more of an effort next time."  
  
"Yes," Susan replied dubiously. "I can just see the mountain of mugs I'll be coming out to every morning." She put a mug up on the sink drainer, covered in foamy suds. "Oh, by the way, the Ministry rang this morning. New housemate isn't arriving until tomorrow night."  
  
"Fair enough," Ginny responded. "Who is it?"  
  
"Don't know," Susan stopped washing and gazed out of the window somewhat dreamily. "I'm hoping for Prince Charming."  
  
"You mean MacMillan doesn't do it for you anymore?" Ginny teased.  
  
Susan blushed.  
  
Ginny just grinned, chewing on the last morsel of muesli. She swallowed and patted her tummy appreciatively. "Muesli is so much better than porridge." She got up and offered her bowl to Susan, who took it and dunked it into the suds. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem," Susan began scrubbing at the bowl with one of the sponges Ginny had brought. "I think the Scourgify way of doing things is a little more efficient." She pulled up her sleeve. "You off to work then?"  
  
"Sure am!" Ginny was taking an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table. "When are we going food-shopping?"  
  
"When the basics run out?" Susan gave a shrug, lifting her arm to rub at her nose. "Tomorrow, probably. Why does my nose always get itchy when I'm wearing gloves?"  
  
"To... really annoy you?" Ginny suggested.  
  
"That must be it," Susan agreed. "So are you going now?"  
  
"Yep." Ginny headed for the door.  
  
"In your slippers?"  
  
Ginny stood in the elevator, squashed in the corner by four massively tall businessmen and a short brunette woman wearing a hat with "BASEBALL IS LIFE" printed across it. She was talking away at a hundred miles an hour to the man next to her in a curious accent that Ginny vaguely recognised as American. She tried to gather her courage to push past them all at her level, but fortunately the elevator stopped at the level just before hers and all four of the men got out. Now it was just Ginny and the American woman. She smiled politely and averted her eyes while the woman stared openly at her, cracking gum in her mouth.  
  
"You from around here?" the woman asked finally, popping her gum loudly. Ginny glanced back at the woman, then down at the floor briefly before meeting the woman's gaze squarely.  
  
"Sort of," she hedged. "From a small town a few miles away."  
  
"Which one?" the woman pressed.  
  
The elevator stopped. The gum continued to pop.  
  
"Penzance," Ginny said quickly, pulling a name out of the air. She moved forward to the doors. They didn't open. She glanced at the panel in surprise. The woman was leaning against it, her thumb firmly pressed against the 'Doors Close' button. "Um..." Ginny started. "Could..."  
  
"Penzance is a ways away," the woman said, raising her eyebrow.  
  
"Only a couple of hours," Ginny responded. "Um, you're leaning on the door button- could I get out, please?"  
  
"Oh," the woman replied, moving away slowly. "Sorry. Go ahead."  
  
"Thanks." The doors opened and Ginny stepped out hurriedly, throwing a glance back at the woman still in the elevator. The woman was still staring at her. Puzzled, Ginny headed down the corridor, looking for a door marked three hundred and seventy eight.  
  
"Have a good first day," the woman called after her as the doors closed. Ginny stopped, turned and stared at the closed doors in astonishment.  
  
"Never mind Kristy," a male voice said at her elbow. Startled, she turned to look into a pair of deep brown eyes. "She likes to intimidate the newbies. Who are you looking for?"  
  
Ginny took a deep breath. Great. That had been some kind of test? Who would've thought that Muggles went in for that kind of thing? She exhaled slowly while reaching for the scrap of paper in her pocket. She scanned it quickly. "Um, I'm supposed to meet a Mister Campbell in room three hundred and seventy eight. I don't suppose you know where that is..."  
  
The guy grinned and held out his hand for her to shake while he juggled an armful of manila folders. "Sure do. I'm Dave Bryson, by the way."  
  
Ginny took his hand. "Ginny Weasley." She studied him thoughtfully. "Are you Australian?"  
  
He laughed and released her hand. "Yes. Didn't take you too long to pick that up!"  
  
Ginny smiled wryly. "The accent is a little different."  
  
"Just a bit," he said, gesturing for her to start walking with him. He led her down the corridor. "We're a bit of a multicultural bunch here. Probably about fifty percent English, with the rest of us from mostly Malaysia, Canada and the US. And then, of course, there's me from little old Oz."  
  
"How come you're working in England?" Ginny asked curiously, putting a skip in her walk to keep up with his long-legged strides.  
  
"Fancied the climate," he threw back at her with a cheerful grin. "Nah, my family moved over here when I was fifteen or so. I finished my education and went into work. Never really occurred to me to go back to Australia."  
  
"Fair enough," Ginny said. Dave stopped abruptly.  
  
"This is Campbell's office. I'll catch ya later, hey?" he took off down the corridor.  
  
"Sure," Ginny called after him. "And thank you!"  
  
"No problem!" he yelled back, lifting an arm. He turned a corner and was gone. Ginny turned to the office door. The faded black label on the door proclaimed:  
  
372  
Andrew Campbell  
Special Investigations Team Supervisor  
British Division of Investigation  
  
She lifted her hand and knocked twice, tentatively.  
  
"Come in!" A Scottish brogue could be heard to call out from behind the door. Multicultural indeed, Ginny thought, grinning. Keeping the smile firmly in place, she turned the knob and entered the meticulously tidy office, facing a short, podgy man with thinning black hair and a moustache.  
  
"Mister Campbell?" she enquired.  
  
"Yes?" He looked up at her. "Aha, you must be Miss Weasley!"  
  
"Please, call me Ginny," she offered, closing the door behind her.  
  
"Sit," he said, pointing at the chair in front of his desk. "And generally I stick to last names. Keeps things impersonal."  
  
"Oh," Ginny said, taken aback. "Uh... sure." She sat down on the red cushioned chair, smiling politely as he turned to a filing cabinet and pulled out a thin file marked 'Weasley, Miss G.'  
  
He riffled through the small stack of papers in the file, scanning them quickly. "I've already read all this, Miss Weasley. I'm just trying to locate your partner sheet."  
  
"Ah, indeed," Ginny said. "What's that?"  
  
He raised his eyebrow and continued searching. "The sheet of paper on which I've marked which of my special agents I'm pairing you up with for each assignment."  
  
Ah... Ginny nodded. Realising that he couldn't see her do that, she added, "Oh, right."  
  
"Mmm," he said, pulling out a green slip. "Oh, that's right; Meg forgot to change the paper in the copier that day. Well, Miss Weasley, I've got you paired with Bryson for the first one. You can start work immediately. I'm expecting him any moment for his next assignment."  
  
"Br-Bryson?" she managed. "Dave Bryson?"  
  
"Met him already, have you?" He gave her a keen look, regarding her thoughtfully. "Good," he said finally. "It's a good idea to check out your workmates before arrival."  
  
"Yes," Ginny responded, much relieved to at least be working with someone she was acquainted with.  
  
"So I gather that you've already been told what you'll be doing with us. Much the same as you were doing in Switzerland, I presume." He attempted a smile through a yawn. "You don't have much of an accent from all those years over there."  
  
Switzerland? Ginny thought, bemused. She'd have to ask her father what else he'd made up about her. "Plenty of home contact kept me British, I suppose."  
  
"Yes. Well, I--"  
  
The door crashed open. Dave stood in the doorway. He flashed Ginny a quick smile before directing his attention to Campbell.  
  
"Andy!" he said, leaning against the doorframe.  
  
"Mister Campbell," the older man responded somewhat wearily.  
  
"Mister Campbell," Dave repeated obediently, winking at Ginny. "Can't find that file you want. Or rather, Meg can't find it. She's stirring up a bit of a panic in the office about it."  
  
Campbell rolled his eyes. "I gave it to her only yesterday morning! She said she'd file it under J."  
  
"Ah," Dave said, backing out of the doorway. "She's been looking under H. Back in a tick." He closed the door and was gone.  
  
"As I was saying," Campbell cleared his throat. Ginny looked back at him. "Have you had much experience in the special agent divisions?"  
  
Ginny considered the question. She had, of course; being an Auror-in- training for almost four years under Amelia Bones and then being partnered with the bubbly Nymphadora Tonks for the last four certainly counted as 'experience with special agent divisions', but she couldn't very well tell him that.  
  
"I'm adequately qualified to take on the position," she replied instead. "I think you have my resume?"  
  
"Yes," he affirmed with a nod. "Got you checked out nicely with the Swiss division; Irish bloke named Finnigan gave you a fair telling." He frowned briefly. "The Swiss are almost as bad as us, hiring every Sam, Pierre and Ho-Cha Chong to fill their ranks."  
  
Ginny laughed. At that moment, the door opened again and Dave came back into the office.  
  
"Got the right one this time, boss," Dave said, sliding the file across the desk. He ignored Campbell's exasperated sigh and slid onto the seat next to Ginny. "How's it going thus far, Gin?"  
  
"Fine," Ginny replied with a smile, a little surprised at his friendliness but relieved just the same. It was becoming apparent to her that she could use a friend in this building.  
  
"Excellent," Campbell said. "You can start this tomorrow. Aren't you due at the school half an hour ago, Bryson?"  
  
Dave checked his watch. "Whoops."  
  
"Get," Campbell ordered, putting the file on the corner of his desk. "Take Weasley. And collect this from me later this afternoon."  
  
Ginny's head slammed back against the headrest. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering if it was safe to open them. Dave hadn't turned out to be the world's slowest driver.  
  
"Stupid bloody twit!" Dave had wound down the window and was hollering at the pedestrian. "Can't ya see the flashing red man?"  
  
The man, an irate London shopper, turned around and gave Dave the finger.  
  
"GET F--"  
  
"Honestly!" Dave fumed, having hit the 'up' button and driving on. "I can't believe the idiots that live in this city! They'll walk out in front of ya, no problem; I'm alright, Jack, I got all day to sit here and wait for you to cross the bloody road!"  
  
"Uh..." Ginny started hesitantly.  
  
"Don't worry, Gin," Dave replied. "I've just had a bad day." He screeched the brakes, swerving to the side of the road and parking efficiently albeit jerkily. "And we're here. Let's go."  
  
Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in the middle of the school oval, looking curiously at the 'crop circle' cut in the grass.  
  
"And I swear, in all my days," Mrs. Hargreaves, the headmistress, was saying, "I've never had this happen. Ever!"  
  
"Strewth," Dave remarked, winking at Ginny and giving Mrs. Hargreaves a sincere smile. "We'll investigate this right away, Headmistress, and give you the report."  
  
Mrs. Hargreaves flashed Dave her dimples briefly, thanking him. She nodded at Ginny and headed back across the oval, her long skirts swishing around her heels. Ginny bit down on her tongue, forcing herself not to comment. She'd met worse.  
  
"Another idiot," Dave said good-naturedly. "This is a lawnmower job. Some wanker's idea of a joke. I can't believe she actually rang the BDI to report it." He paused. "I also can't believe Andy actually assigned us to investigate it."  
  
"This is fairly poor," Ginny agreed, studying the 'circle'. "What are you used to investigating?" she asked.  
  
"Murders," Dave said matter-of-factly. "Been on the trail of a brilliant one for almost a year now. Henry Jenkins. Know him?"  
  
"No," Ginny said blankly, before remembering that she was supposed to be a Muggle Londoner. "I mean, um--"  
  
"S'alright, I forgot you've been with the Swiss of late. Jenkins was found murdered in a hotel room about ten, eleven months ago now," Dave told her, pacing the perimeter of the circle. "Twenty feet wide, this is. Or thereabouts."  
  
"Oh," Ginny said. "How was he killed?"  
  
"That's the interesting bit," Dave said. "No one knows. He was found perfectly dead, his body in tip-top condition; save for one interesting snake-shaped cut on his forehead."  
  
"Snake-shaped cut?" Ginny asked quickly. "Not more lightning-bolt shaped?"  
  
"Nah," Dave said, squinting at her. "Nothing like a lightning bolt. Where'd ya get that idea from?"  
  
So Harry is still unique, then.  
  
"Dunno," Ginny waved it off. "Read something similar in Switzerland..." Seeing Dave's look, she hurried on. "Though he died of a heart attack."  
  
"Ah," Dave said. "Well, be buggered if I can figure this one out... maybe you'll be the key to helping me figure it out." He gave her a lop-sided grin. "You'll be my lucky charm, Gin." He glanced at his watch. "She's been gone at least four minutes. That's long enough to form a scientific opinion. Let's go up to the school and explain why it's not alien communication." He shook his head in disgust. "Honestly, aliens? How X- Files is that?"  
  
"X-Files?" Ginny was mystified.  
  
He stared at her, his mouth agape. "You haven't heard of the X-Files? How on earth have you avoided the jokes in this line of work?"  
  
"Just lucky, I guess," she offered, her mind working quickly. X-Files. Some obscure yet famous branch of Muggle Investigations she hadn't heard of yet? She'd have to quiz her father.  
  
He laughed. "You'll be my lucky charm after all!" He started to head back up to the school, his arms swinging merrily by his sides. "Coming?" 


	3. The Housemate

Chapter Three  
The Housemate  
  
Or am I standing still 'neath the darkened sky?  
Or am I standing still, with the scenery flying by?  
Or am I standing still, out of the corner of my eye,  
Was that you, passing me by?  
Are you passing me by?  
  
Jewel Kilcher "Standing Still"  
  
Ginny's stomach rumbled loudly as she put her key in the lock. She twisted the key around and pushed open the door, slinging her bag onto the floor and closing the door behind her. She headed off down the passageway to the kitchen and stopped short upon reaching the door.  
  
"Suze! You're cooking?"  
  
"Yep!" Susan said, stirring something in a large pot on the stove. She smiled at Ginny and gestured at the table. "Water crackers with cheese if you're keen. We're going shopping after dinner because we have next to no food left."  
  
"Great," Ginny said, moving into the room and inhaling deeply. "What are we getting?"  
  
"Perishables, essentials," Susan shrugged. "What do you think, Lav?"  
  
"Doesn't bother me," was the mutter from the other end of the table. Lavender was hunched up in her chair, still wearing her pyjamas and looking miserable.  
  
"Lav!" Ginny said, somewhat concerned. "You didn't go to work?" She reached out and smoothed Lavender's hair out of her eyes. There came a muffled 'thanks'. Ginny smiled and sat down next to her.  
  
"No, no," Lavender said, raising her head. "Stay away!"  
  
Ginny was surprised. "Are you contagious?"  
  
"Yes!" Lavender said before laying her head back down on the table. "Curses upon whatever deity invented this miserable illness."  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Ginny asked Susan quizzically, before moving away from Lavender.  
  
"Gastro!" Susan said cheerfully. "The only thing I didn't bring a potion to fix!"  
  
"Oh, yuck! Poor Lav!" Ginny said, moving even further away.  
  
"Yeah. Thanks," Lavender replied, before sniffing. "I might go back to bed; the smell of the food is making me feel sick."  
  
"Okay," Susan said. "Do you need any help?"  
  
"No," Lavender grumbled, getting to her feet. "I'm throwing up, not limping."  
  
"Do you want me to keep your tea in the fridge for when you're feeling better?" Susan asked, glancing into her pot. "I've made enough for a small army."  
  
"Yeah," Lavender said, brushing past Ginny. "That'd be good. Thanks."  
  
Susan was silent until Lavender had left the room before grinning ruefully at Ginny. "We'll catch it. Guaranteed." She paused, a speculative look in her eye. "But by that time, I will have gotten the potion!"  
  
Ginny laughed, sitting down at the table. "What a day." She reached for a water cracker and cut a few slices of cheese off the block, putting one on the cracker. She bit down and chewed thoroughly.  
  
Susan picked up the wooden spoon and began stirring in her pot again. "Have a good second day of work?"  
  
Ginny considered. "Yeah, for the most part," she said truthfully. "My boss is getting curious about my Swiss background, though. Keeps asking me things about their lifestyle. He must think I'm under the Muggle Witness Protection program."  
  
"What's that?" Susan asked. "Can you reach behind you and pass me the oregano?"  
  
Ginny cast around in the spices rack and came out with the right jar. She tossed it across the kitchen to Susan, who caught it left-handed and shook some of the dried herb into the pot. She inhaled deeply while still stirring.  
  
"The Muggle Witness Protection program protects folk who are supposed to give evidence against criminals in a Muggle court of law. It's only for those who are in extreme danger and so on," Ginny said. She tapped her fingernails on the table absently, watching Susan stir. "Those Muggles are given new identities and sent elsewhere to live for awhile."  
  
"Sounds interesting!" Susan said cheerfully, dipping a wooden spoon into the mix. She tested it on the end of her tongue. "Ooh, yummo! I am a champion."  
  
"What are you cooking?" Ginny asked.  
  
"Spaghetti bolognaise," Susan replied, searching the cupboard next to the stove. "Damn it, where did I put the gravy powder?"  
  
"In the pantry," Ginny volunteered.  
  
"Ah," Susan said. "Thanks." She pulled out a small pot and put it on the stovetop, turning the heat up to high before turning her attention to searching for the powder. "Dear pantry, where have you hidden the gravy? ... Aha!" She removed the gravy powder from the pantry and began measuring it out. "So, is your boss giving you a hard time?"  
  
"Nah," Ginny said. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them back the other way, looking about the kitchen. It wasn't half as interesting as the kitchen they had at home. No clock to tell them where everyone was. No dishes doing themselves. No brooms sweeping the floors. She wondered how Muggle children ever managed to entertain themselves.  
  
"So you think you'll enjoy working there?"  
  
"Oh, yes," Ginny replied. "I've got my new partner, Dave, to keep me entertained. Remember I told you about him last night? The Australian? He's really funny." She paused. "I guess I'm just missing some people from the wizarding world."  
  
"Harry?" Susan asked knowingly, turning the heat down on the stove.  
  
"No," Ginny said hotly. "Why would I miss Harry?"  
  
Susan shrugged. "You did date him for an awfully long time during the war, Ginny," she said. She took the pot off the stove and rested it on the sink. "Oh, blast, I forgot to turn the pasta down!" She looked inside the pot. "A sodden mess. Oh well, at least it's cooked, I suppose!"  
  
"I haven't talked to Harry in a few weeks," Ginny said slowly. "But it's not him that I miss. It's my mum, and my dad, all my brothers..."  
  
"Oh, of course," Susan said immediately. "I miss my family, too."  
  
"And Ernie, of course," Ginny said innocently.  
  
Susan smiled shyly. "Yes, and Ernie."  
  
Ginny laughed. "You are allowed to talk about him, Susan, you're going to be marrying the man!"  
  
Susan took the pot of pasta off the stove, draining it over the sink. She looked thoughtful. "I suppose. I guess I'm just used to hiding it a bit. No one was supposed to be distracted by love during the war."  
  
"No one was supposed to be distracted by anything," Ginny agreed gloomily. "That's why Dad is so keen to clear up the war debris so quickly, so that we can all get on with our lives and forget that You-Know-Who ever existed."  
  
Susan smiled, shaking the last drops of water from the pasta. "Your dad is a good Minister, Ginny."  
  
"It was a bit of a shock," Ginny said. "All he's ever wanted to do was play with the Muggle artifacts... but he said that once he saw how much disrepair the hierarchy of the Ministry was in, he felt some deep-seated need to get in there and tidy it up himself." She matched Susan's smile. "I'm proud of him for that."  
  
"What's the rest of your family doing?" Susan asked. "Excepting Percy, of course..." Her look softened. "I was sorry to hear about that, Gin."  
  
Ginny shrugged. "He was lost to me years ago." She put her hands in her lap, staring down at the table. "I just wish that someone would find him so that we know what happened. It's killing Mum not knowing where he is." She took a deep breath. "Or, indeed, if he's even alive."  
  
Susan came over and squeezed Ginny's shoulder briefly, smiling sympathetically. "It's awful, isn't it? Two of my cousins were never found, either."  
  
"It is," Ginny whispered. She cleared her throat. "I heard about your cousins. I'm sorry." She smiled tiredly back at Susan. "But the rest of my family is doing alright. Mum's still at St. Mungo's, helping out there with those who were hit with memory charms. The twins are running around New York with the American ministry, clearing up stray spells." She laughed. "They hate it. Bill, of course, is back in Egypt, clearing up there... and Fleur has gone with him," she added. "Charlie's working in a London zoo at the moment; apparently some of the bigger animals were cursed."  
  
"Really?" Susan asked. "He really stopped at nothing, didn't he?"  
  
"Ah, well," Ginny replied disparagingly. "He was an evil mastermind, after all."  
  
Susan grinned, heading back to her pasta. "Yes, that he was." She reached into a cupboard and drew out three plates. "Ron and Hermione doing okay?"  
  
"I think so," Ginny responded. "I'm supposed to give them a call tonight, actually, to let them know what's going on here."  
  
Susan paused while serving the food, turning to look back at Ginny. "Hermione's leg can't be replaced, can it?" she asked softly.  
  
Ginny shook her head. "Not at the moment, anyway. The wound is still too raw, and her body is still riddled with magic that shouldn't be there."  
  
Susan was quiet for a moment. "Is Ron looking after her full-time?"  
  
"No." Ginny shook her head. "He's doing some desk work, filing all the reports from wizardkind working in the Muggle world."  
  
"Wow," Susan said. She put a bowl of spaghetti bolognaise in front of Ginny and sat down opposite her. "He's really strong, isn't he?"  
  
"Yeah, he is," Ginny agreed. "He's really changed. But then... war changes a lot of people."  
  
"Yes, it does," Susan said, beginning to eat. "Eat up, Gin, or it'll get cold."  
  
"Yes, Mum," Ginny said wryly, poking her fork into the pasta. "Thanks, Suze."  
  
A knock sounded at the front door of the house. Ginny didn't look up from her book. The fire was crackling merrily, a scented candle was burning on the coffee table and the lamp was creating a dull glow, just enough to read by. Ginny was in heaven. She reached for her cup of tea, and turned another page in the book. She sighed over the romance in the situation, looking around the room in contentment. She snuggled further into her old armchair and sank her teeth into yet another chocolate biscuit. She was beginning to see just how Muggles got along without magic. This was magic enough.  
  
"Oh my god!" Lavender could be heard to exclaim. "Wow. Crazy! I really didn't expect the new housemate to be you!" Ginny raised her eyebrow and wondered absently who it could be to drag Lavender out of bed. Probably one of Lavender's old boyfriends from Hogwarts or something. A low, male voice could be heard to reply, though Ginny couldn't make it out. Not that she minded. The heroine in the novel she was reading was getting proposed to.  
  
"Oh, Tom," Brianna sighed, running her fingers through his black locks. "I just... it's all so crazy, you know? There's so much I want to say to you and..."  
  
"Hush." Tom silenced her with a kiss. She reveled in the glorious feel of his silken lips against her as he whispered, "There's no need for words right now."  
  
"Oh, Tom!" Brianna threw her head back and sighed in ecstasy as he pressed feather-light kisses to her skin.  
  
"That's so mad." Lavender's higher-pitched voice sailed through the old plaster. "Well, hey, I'm sure this'll be interesting if nothing else. Have you seen the house yet? It's really old, isn't it? Ginny, one of our other housemates, loves it. Your room is just upstairs..."  
  
The voice spoke again. Ginny turned another page, unperturbed by the noises in the hall. She chewed absently on a lock of flame-coloured hair as her eyes quickly scanned the page.  
  
"Oh, Brianna," Tom grunted. "No, don't – I just want to lie here with you forever."  
  
Brianna had never felt so happy in her entire life. Tom Markos, the man she had been in love with since she was ten, was sweeping her off her feet and she was falling; falling further than she had ever fallen before...  
  
"Ginny? That's her room there."  
  
There was a knock at the door. It swung open and Lavender poked her head around. The fire spat and crackled merrily. Ginny didn't bother to look up. She slowly replaced her cup on the table, still reading.  
  
"Ginny, the new housemate is here," Lavender said meaningfully. She looked surreptitiously behind her before continuing.  
  
"And you'll never guess who it is!" she whispered frantically. "It's amazing! I can't believe your father approved him to live with us. It's scandalous, that's what it is." She paused to smooth her hair. "But he's really good looking now, so I guess we can keep him."  
  
Ginny smiled, her eyes not lifting from the page. "In a minute, Lav. I'm up to a really good spot."  
  
Lavender rolled her eyes, and closed the door.  
  
"Yeah, I'll show you upstairs..." Lavender was heard to tell the newcomer.  
  
The sound of their footsteps trudging upstairs echoed through the hall and under Ginny's door. Lavender's voice drifted into the distance. Ginny continued to read.  
  
Hours later, Ginny yawned and stretched. She looked around her and reached out for the telephone sitting beside her bed. She picked up the piece of paper next to it and looked at the numbers on it, punching the buttons on the phone and listening to it ring in her ear. There was a click and a distinct clearing of the throat. Ron had been using a telephone for almost fifteen years and yet he still found it necessary to bellow into the mouthpiece.  
  
"Ron!" Ginny said hurriedly. "It's Ginny."  
  
"Oh!" Ron said in surprise. "Hey, Ginny!"  
  
"Hi," she said, wrapping the cord around her fingers. "I can hear you perfectly, by the way."  
  
"Really?" Ron asked. "It's hard to tell with this thing." He paused. "Maybe your phone is just a really good one. I told Hermione we should get a newer one."  
  
"Haven't you got the latest model on the market?" Ginny asked, amused.  
  
"Yeah..." Ron conceded. "Well, no. Not really. There's another model, a newer one; comes with an inbuilt facsimile machine. But Hermione said we didn't need that one because we already have a facsimile machine."  
  
"Fax machines are helpful," Ginny agreed. "How are you, Ron?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, alright!" Ron said brightly. "How's it going over in your neck of the woods? All those Muggles driving you mad yet?"  
  
Ginny laughed softly. "No... no, I've only been here for three days, Ron!"  
  
"You all unpacked?" he asked.  
  
"Not really," Ginny said, looking around her bedroom. "I figured I'd leave most of the boxes until the weekend. I had to start work straightaway... made no sense to stay up all night unpacking and then work all day long."  
  
"Good plan," Ron said. "You getting along with Lav and Susan alright?"  
  
"Yeah," Ginny said. "Susan's great. Haven't seen so much of Lavender, though, she's been sick with a gastro bug."  
  
"Oh," Ron said. "Yuck!"  
  
Ginny laughed again. "Yes, I'm doing my best to avoid her, really!" She could tell Ron was smirking.  
  
"Trust Lavender," he eventually said. "Want to talk to 'Mione?"  
  
At Ginny's assent, he clanked the phone down and went off in search of his partner. There were a number of muffled thumps before Ginny heard Ron saying, "No, she's on the telephone!"  
  
"What telephone?" Hermione was saying, sounding frustrated. "I thought you said that the phone company wasn't coming to install it until next week!"  
  
"No, I told you that last week!"  
  
"You told me yesterday!" she fired back. "So you mean to say that Ginny is on the phone now, waiting for me?"  
  
"YES!" Ron bellowed.  
  
"Well, why ever didn't you say that in the first place?" Hermione asked crossly. The phone was picked up. "Hello, Ginny."  
  
"Hermione," Ginny acknowledged the older girl. "How are you?"  
  
"As well as I can be," she said crabbily. Then she laughed. "Honestly, Ron is the most useless boyfriend I've ever had."  
  
"You've had others?" both Ginny and Ron asked at the same time.  
  
"Well..." Hermione hedged. "Not exactly, no..."  
  
"Then I'm also the best boyfriend you've ever had!" Ron boasted.  
  
Hermione laughed. "Shush! How are you, Ginny?"  
  
"Good," Ginny affirmed. "I'm doing great. The house is great, and everyone here is well. Except Lavender, she has gastro. But asides from that, it's been great!" She smiled. "Just missing everyone a little already!"  
  
"Poor Lavender," Hermione said. "Be sure to send my love. Oh, by the way, who's the fourth housemate? You didn't know when I last asked you."  
  
"I still don't know, actually!" Ginny replied.  
  
"Really?" Hermione sounded surprised. "They haven't arrived yet?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Ginny said. "They arrived about two hours ago. It's a guy, as far as I can make out. Haven't popped my head out yet."  
  
"Ginny!" Hermione said. "That's appallingly bad manners."  
  
"I was reading a good book!" Ginny protested.  
  
"Oh, sure," Hermione responded. "Another Mills & Boon, wasn't it? I was wrong to get you stuck on those."  
  
"It was not," Ginny said defensively, sliding her copy under her pillow. "I don't read that rubbish."  
  
"Of course you don't," Hermione replied. "Oh- Ginny, I'm sorry, we've got some guests at the door. I'll give you a call tomorrow sometime. What's your number?"  
  
"I'll be at work tomorrow," Ginny replied, a little regretfully. "Maybe I could get away on the weekend and Floo to your place." She really missed Hermione. The girls had grown close in later years.  
  
"Oh, yes! Do!" Hermione exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in so long, that'd be fantastic. Alright, Ginny. I'll see you then! Give us a call to tell us when you're coming, alright?"  
  
"Okay," Ginny said. "Bye..."  
  
"Bye!" There was a click and Hermione was gone.  
  
Ginny leaned over and blew out the candle, deciding it was time to finally meet the fourth housemate. She put on her slippers and went into the hallway. She closed the door softly and glanced out of the foyer's front windows. There was a familiar looking blue car parked there, though she couldn't place why it was so familiar. She ran a finger over the decorated glass lovingly.  
  
It's so beautiful, she thought. How could anyone want to leave this place?  
  
There was a discreet cough from the stairwell. Ginny started, and turned to face the stairs, expecting to see Susan's disapproving gaze. The girls thought Ginny to be mad for falling in love with a Muggle house, and as for locking herself up in her new room for hours on end without coming out to meet the new housemate, well- she was sure they wouldn't be impressed about that!  
  
Instead of Susan, though, Ginny saw a familiar white-blonde hair and piercing silver eyes on a somewhat unfamiliar man. Instinctively, Ginny's hand went to her heart. She took a step back in shock. It had to be him. It had been years and he'd changed so much but no one else in the world had hair that colour...  
  
"Draco Malfoy..." Ginny gasped out quietly, staring up at the stairs in pure disbelief. The figure standing there couldn't be the same Draco Malfoy. The Malfoy who had made her life a living hell during all years at Hogwarts, the one who had called her a disgrace to the wizarding community.  
  
"Ginny Weasley," Draco said evenly, moving casually down the stairs. "Nice to see you recognise me. It's been awhile. A good nine or ten years by now, I'd wager."  
  
Ginny's breath caught in her throat. The light glinting through the front windows was reflected in the shine of Draco's cheeks and the silver in his eyes, she noted dully. She forced herself to speak.  
  
"Ni-- nine years," Ginny said, her mind jumping frantically to conclusions. "You're-- you're not-- are you helping your friend settle in?"  
  
Beside Ginny, the grandfather clock in the hall ticked away. Ginny became aware of her heart beating fives times as fast as the steady tick. She took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself.  
  
"What friend?" Draco asked curiously, coming to stand a few feet away from her. "Settle in? You mean, move in?" He raked a hand casually through his hair, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Ginny nodded.  
  
To her dismay, Draco laughed. "No... no, Ginny, I'm the one moving in."  
  
Ginny's mouth fell ajar. Wordlessly, she closed it and gulped. She looked at Draco, lounging casually against the wall. She exhaled slowly and smoothed imaginary creases out of her shirt, at a loss for anything to say. He was watching her with an amused expression on his face.  
  
"You... you've moved in with us. That's... that's nice, Mal-- Malfoy." Ginny forced herself to smile politely. She wondered if she should be calling him Draco now. "Uh... had a good trip?"  
  
He raised his eyebrow. "Yes, Weasley," he drawled. "I had a pleasant trip."  
  
Ginny nodded again. "Glad to hear it. I might just... go to bed, then." She paused, wondering what to say. She turned to her door and fumbled with the lock. "I'll see you later, I expect."  
  
"Probably," Draco said, turning around and going back upstairs. "Night, Weasley."  
  
Ginny slipped quickly into her room, slammed the door and threw herself on her bed. It had to be a joke, didn't it? She stared mutely at the wall, tracing patterns in the paintwork idly, thinking furiously and weighing up her options. Head against the pillow, she could feel the blood rushing through her temples and instinctively put a hand to her forehead, massaging it. She would have to contact her father, maybe asked to be transferred to a different house—but that was impossible, Ginny had seen the housing arrangements herself. There was absolutely nowhere else for her to go. She sighed, rolling over and glancing at the clock. It was late enough to get to bed. Maybe everything would be clearer in the morning. She didn't bother to get changed, just slid under the blankets and lay in the dark, waiting for morning. 


	4. Pumpkin Juice

**Chapter 4**

_**Pumpkin Juice**_

_He left a card, a bar of soap and a scrubbing brush _

_Next to a note that said, "Use these down to your bones."  
And before I knew, I had shiny skin and it felt easy being clean like him.  
I thought, "This one knows better than I do."_

_Missy Higgins "Scar"_

"Look, Ginny." Her father's highly irritated tone came down the line loudly, causing Ginny to wince and hold the phone away from her ear. "I can't help it if you don't like the man! I don't like him either! In fact, I can't think of a single person alive who does! But what can I do? I haven't got any time to go chasing around alternate accommodation for him--"

"--Okay," Ginny interrupted. "I--"

"--It's not like I can just afford to attend to the whims of my only daughter! I've got the clearing up of a war that was decades in the making to oversee and you're whinging because you don't like your housemate! Things aren't like your fantasies in the real world, Ginny. Grow up and open your eyes! You could be sharing a house with worse people than Draco Malfoy! In fact--"

"--Okay, Dad, I get it; I'm sorry--"

"--Well, you ought to be sorry, Ginny, you should know better than to ring up first thing in the morning and expect me to be congenial and chirpy when your mother is doing it tough and we don't have anyone here to help us--"

"--Stop it!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm sorry, okay? I was just a bit upset. I thought that you of all people would understand that, Dad!"

There was a brief silence at the other end of the phone before her father sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Gin, I've been under a lot of stress lately. I pulled as many strings as I could to try and get Malfoy in somewhere else but the truth of the matter is that there's just nowhere else for him to go." He paused. "I had him fully checked out; he hasn't done a single thing wrong since school. He left home at seventeen and went into a job as a potions assistant and has kept a very low profile since, seemingly without contact with his father. So there's really no reason for you to worry."

Ginny bit her lip as she glanced out the window at the steadily rising sun. "Are you trying to convince me or you?"

Her father laughed. "Both, I think." She heard the tired smile in his voice. "Ginny, I'm sorry; I'm going to have to go. I'm already late for an appointment with Amelia and Merlin knows if I don't get these dishes started your mother will have my head."

Ginny smiled. "Okay, Dad. I'll talk to you later." She unwound the phone cord from around her fingers slowly. "Thanks."

"That's alright," he said. "'Bye."

"'Bye," Ginny said softly, hanging up the phone and arranging the cord so it fell down the side of her nightstand neatly. She got up off her bed and went out into the hallway, meaning to go to the kitchen to find some breakfast before she had to leave for work.

The sun poured in from the window at the top of the stairs, drenching the floor in the light. Her feet were warm against the polished wood and she relished the sensation, following the patch of sunlight to the kitchen door where it stopped abruptly. She looked up to see Draco at one of the table and Lavender at the other.

"Of course, the summer fashions from Emmaline Rauteri weren't half as nice as those from Candice Louberry's, which was really surprising, I felt. Emmaline's usually has such a nice range of dress robes in the chartreuse shades. So what was I to do, really?" Lavender reached across the table for a water cracker.

"Mm," Draco responded.

"You're right, it was a total fiasco," Lavender agreed. She chewed her cracker thoughtfully, frowning. "I wish I could eat normal foods already."

Ginny decided that was her cue to enter. "Give it another day yet, Lav," she smiled at the girl before walking over to the bench, casting around for the loaf of bread she knew had to be sitting somewhere. Scanning the bench top, she discovered a wooden box marked 'Bread Box' and opened it, finding three loaves inside.

"Morning, Ginny!" Lavender greeted her happily, still in her pyjamas. Draco was sitting opposite her, eating something from a bowl.

"Good morning, Lav," Ginny responded. She cast a glance at the blonde haired man, trying to decide whether or not to acknowledge him. "Malfoy."

"Weasley," he mumbled, seemingly concentrating on eating. She rolled her eyes before turning to the toaster.

"Off to work?" Lavender asked. "Susan's already gone."

"Yeah," Ginny said, tossing two slices of wholemeal bread into the toaster and pressing the button down. "Nine 'til five today."

Draco turned his head slightly to look at her. "Where do you work?" he asked, with his mouth still full.

Ginny arched her eyebrow slightly, giving him a suspicious glance. "British Division of Investigation."

He snorted and didn't respond. Ginny decided to ignore him.

"Are you feeling better today, Lav?" she asked.

"Yes," Lavender said. "A bit. I'm not up to working yet, though. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after. I still feel really tired... and I think I pulled every muscle in my body from retching over the sink for three days straight."

"Lovely," Draco said. He stood up and put his plate on the sink. "I trust you'll wash that up, Weasley," he said, before leaving the room. Ginny looked open-mouthed at the plate then at the empty doorway, her eyebrows peaking at her hairline.

"Scumbag!" she said finally.

Lavender shrugged. "He's male," she said knowingly. "And Slytherin," she added, as an afterthought. "You've got to make exceptions for those."

"I am not going to be the kitchen maid," Ginny said haughtily, taking her freshly toasted breakfast out of the toaster and putting it on a plate. She leaned over the table and grabbed the jam, spreading liberal amounts of it over the toast. "I am not anyone's kitchen wench."

"Mmm," Lavender agreed absently. "Don't worry about it, Gin. He's just not used to us yet." She yawned before winking conspiratorially at Ginny. "I'm going back to bed. Feel free to remind Draco that he can dote on me all day long if he wants."

Ginny gave Lavender a surprised look. Fair enough if Lavender had decided that Draco wasn't an evil Slytherin anymore and wanted to give him a chance; Ginny herself had decided to give him a chance but that she didn't mean she was going to _throw_ herself at him! Then again, Lavender had always been a bit fickle like that. Who could forget the times she'd said that Hufflepuffs weren't worth looking at and then ended up going with Zacharias Smith to her sixth year ball? Still, she supposed she shouldn't be so quick to judge Lavender. Not many people knew what she'd had to endure in the war and Ginny couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose a husband.

A condescending voice drawled from the hallway as Draco made his way past the kitchen toward the back of the house. "Won't be necessary."

Lavender laughed. "See? Slytherin men. Don't know a good thing when they see it." She stretched. "I'll see you later. You cooking tonight?"

"Yeah," Ginny replied. She'd forgotten about that. Lavender swished past, bathrobe trailing on the floor as she headed out the door. Ginny sat down at the table and reached for the juice, wondering absently what she could cook. Chicken casserole, perhaps. She frowned and closed her eyes, trying to picture the contents of the freezer without actually having to get up to have a look and see what was in there. She was sure she'd stashed some frozen chicken pieces in there somewhere. She took a large mouthful from her cup, opening her eyes and swallowing as someone brushed past her.

"Pumpkin juice a bit of a luxury for you, Weasley?" Draco was squatting down in front of the cupboard below the sink, foraging around in it.

"What?" Ginny asked blankly. She raised her cup to her lips again, eyeing him suspiciously.

He turned to face her. "Pumpkin juice," he repeated. "One of the more expensive brands, courtesy of _moi._ I dare suspect you don't get that at home, judging from the look of happiness of your face as you drink it." He twisted back around and leaned further into the cupboard. "Lord, where are the gloves?"

Ginny spat her mouthful of pumpkin juice back into her cup, picking up the juice container and pouring the contents of her cup back into the bottle. She picked up her remaining piece of toast and stood up, scraping her chair back noisily. Draco threw her a brief glance.

"The gloves?" he asked expectantly.

"I don't know," Ginny responded pleasantly. She took a bite out of her toast and smiled sweetly. "Your face is turning red; perhaps they're up your arse?" She turned away from him and stalked out of the kitchen.

Ginny knocked at Dave's door and waited for him to consent to her opening the door. There was no response. Eyebrows raised, she lifted her fist to knock again. The door was flung open and Dave stood in the doorway, beaming at her.

"Gin!" he said jovially. "Come on in! Pull up a pew."

Ginny smiled and followed him into the office, closing the door behind her. She took a seat in front of his desk, glancing around at the now-familiar objects. The sports banners on the walls, the newspaper cuttings about Jenkins, the photos of his family amidst the clutter on his desk and a strange, flat bat leaning against a wall accompanied by three long sticks and a white ball. She smiled at the paperweight; a snow-globe of a giant orange rock somewhere in Australia. When asked, he'd told her it was called Uluru and that it never snowed there.

"How's it all going?" Dave asked her as he settled into his chair.

"How's what going?" Ginny wrinkled her brow in confusion. "The case?"

"No," Dave responded, winking at her. "It. I meant everything in general." At her blank look, he laughed. "How _are_ you, Ginny?"

"Oh!" she replied, feeling oddly embarrassed. "Um... I'm alright," she said carefully. "How are you?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright too," Dave responded breezily, settling his elbows on his desk. "How're all the housemates at home?"

"Pretty good." She folded her hands on her lap. "Lavender is still a bit sick but it's clearing up. Thankfully none of us have caught it."

"You mean you and Susan?" Dave asked.

"And Draco," Ginny said. She leaned down and reached into her bag, drawing out the fresh green apple she'd put in there. She started polishing it with her sleeve.

"Draco?" Dave questioned. "Who?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Lord, don't even ask."

"Right you are, then," Dave said amiably. "What's the plan for lunch, chum?"

Ginny regarded him and then looked down at her apple. "Uh... food?" She bit into it, squirting the juice down her chin. She ran her finger across it quickly, stopping the trickling.

"Good plan!" Dave laughed. "But I was wondering--"

"David!" a voice hollered from outside the door. The door was pushed open and the American woman from the elevator poked her head around. "Oh, you are in here. Good," she said, coming in and plonking herself in the chair next to Ginny's. "I thought I saw Miss Weasel come in and thought I'd take a chance that you were in here too."

"Weasley," Ginny corrected her.

"I know, dear," Kristy responded, looking at Dave. "I never forget a name."

"Why on earth," Dave asked, "would you expect Ginny to be here when I wasn't?"

"I don't know," Kristy replied lightly. "Why would she be?"

Dave rolled his eyes before winking at Ginny. "She thinks you're up to something, Gin."

"Me?" Kristy protested. "Never!"

"Yeah?" Dave replied. "What's with the 'weasel' thing then? Huh?"

"Slip of the tongue," Kristy told him innocently. Ginny forced herself not to roll her eyes. Kristy smiled brightly at Ginny. "Where did you say you were from, Ginny?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow before racking her brain quickly. "Penzance."

"Oh, that's right!" Kristy said cheerfully. "Yes, I was talking to an old friend who lives there, Ginny, and she's never heard of you."

Ginny shrugged. "Not a tiny place." _Is it?_ She wondered.

"Not all that big, either," the other woman said. "As they say, it's a small world."

"I always wondered who 'they' were," Dave pondered aloud. "Any clues, Gin?"

Ginny smiled at him, grateful for the reprieve. "The proverbial people, of course, Dave."

"Yes, David," Kristy said. "They're just _them._ There's no question of who they are."

"Yes, there is!" Dave protested. "I asked! That's a question, ain't it?"

Kristy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Really, David."

"Would you lighten up?" Dave asked her, grinning. "And quit calling me David!"

"Why?" Kristy replied. She leant back in her chair and drew a stick of gum out of her pocket, unwrapping it quickly and placing it into her mouth. She looked behind her chair and tossed the wrapper in the direction of the bin, missing it by half a metre.

"Is that why you're not on the American baseball team, Kristy?" Dave teased her. "Can't throw to save your life!" He laughed. Kristy made rude gestures at him. "And you should quit calling me David because only my mother calls me that when she's mad at me. Besides, I don't call you Kristina."

"True," Kristy conceded. "But then again, my name isn't Kristina."

"Isn't it?" Dave leaned back and put his arms up behind his head, eyes twinkling merrily as he contemplated the new information. "What is it then?"

"I'm not telling," Kristy said, a crimson colour rising in her cheeks. Dave saw this and pounced on it.

"Krista? Kristen? Chrysanthemum!" he suggested. At the shake of her head, he laughed. "No? No outrageously hippie parents for you? What is it then?"

Kristy looked at Ginny for a long moment before turning her attention back to Dave. "Krystal, actually."

"Spelt with a 'K'?" Ginny asked. At Kristy's nod, she stifled a groan. She'd always hated that spelling. She hated any word that replaced a C with a K.

"Krystal," Dave repeated thoughtfully. "Well then, Krystal, from now on, if you call me David, I'll call you Krystal. Fair?" He stuck out his hand.

Kristy shook it. "Fair," she agreed.

"Beauty," Dave replied. "And now get out; me and Ginny have got some work to do."

Kristy stood up, smiling graciously. "Alright then, Bryson, keep your shirt on."

"It's on!" Dave replied cheekily. "Buttoned, too!"

"Too bad for me," Kristy replied, blowing him a kiss. She looked down at Ginny. "Miss Weasley." She swept out of the room, banging the door shut behind her. Ginny expelled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Cor, she's a bit full-on today," Dave said ruefully. He smiled at Ginny. "Don't like her much, do you?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Am I that transparent?"

Dave laughed. "Well, you were a bit quiet, so I just assumed." He yawned and stretched. "You done with your apple?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, looking down at the core. Dave held out a hand. She looked at it quizzically. "What?"

"Give me the core," Dave said.

"What?" Ginny said again. "No! What are you going to do, eat it?"

"No," Dave said, bemused. "Just give it here."

Dubiously, she passed it over. Dave held it by the stem before throwing it out of the open window. He stuck his head out and watched it fall.

"A bit further, a bit further... come on, little man... just a bit further..."

"What on earth...?" Ginny asked, moving up behind him and looking down at the falling apple. It smashed onto the tin roof, spraying tiny bits of apple everywhere. Muffled shouting was heard from below. Dave cackled and returned to his chair. Ginny turned to face him, the question on her face. He laughed.

"The girl in the office next to that roof turned me down once," he said. "Now I get her back every chance I get."

Ginny's mouth fell open. "You're kidding," she said.

"Yes," Dave said. "I am. It just pisses the people off in that office. Anyway, I want to tell you about the leads I got on the Jenkins case!"

Ginny returned to her seat. "Leads?"

"Yeah, a few champion ones," Dave responded. "Got yet another autopsy performed on the guy; they're all in agreement that there was no logical reason for Jenkins to have died."

Ginny frowned. "What?"

"Well, what I mean is, he wasn't sick." Dave picked up a pencil and played with it idly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Like, he didn't have cancer and he didn't have a blood disease. There were no problems with his heart or lungs. His brain was fine. All his organs were fine. Everything is intact. Well, was; now that they've sliced him open three or four times he's not so intact. But do you know what I'm saying, Ginny?" He looked at her directly.

"I think so," Ginny responded, feeling a faint flutter in her stomach. "Though I'm not so sure I've come to the same conclusion you have." She didn't know quite what to think. It certainly sounded as if this Jenkins had been killed with an Unforgivable Curse, but she couldn't tell him that, could she? She'd have to try to distract him, throw him off the scent; find a reasonable explanation for his death that would sate Dave's appetite for the unknown.

"It's almost other-worldly, isn't it?" Dave asked. He pressed a button on his key ring and the lights on his car flashed as the alarm beeped. Ginny opened her door and got into the car, pulling on her seatbelt as Dave slid into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. "Like, I just can't figure it out. It's like SIDS or something."

"Sids?" Ginny repeated, her head slamming back against the headrest as Dave accelerated out of the car park. They headed down the hill, her stomach taking a dive as he drove even faster.

"Sudden Infant Death Syndrome," Dave replied, indicating to turn left. He braked quickly and swung around the corner, speeding up again. He gave her a curious glance. "You know, where babies die suddenly in their cots for no apparent reason at all."

"Oh," Ginny replied. She vaguely remembered hearing about it before. "Yes..." She put a hand to her forehead, blinking in the bright sunlight. Her stomach still hadn't recovered from speeding down the hill and now she was starting to feel dizzy.

"It's like that, isn't it?" Dave pressed. "It's just so crazy, Gin, I can't get my head around it. It's the sort of thing that keeps you awake at night, thinking about it and trying to figure it out."

"Yeah," Ginny agreed. "Bizarre." She massaged her temples, closing her eyes.

"Very bizarre!" Dave noted. He looked over at her briefly, swinging the wheel around another corner. "You don't look so good, you feeling okay?"

Ginny considered lying, and decided against it. "No, actually, I don't feel so great at all," she confessed.

Dave looked concerned. "Is it going to pass, or do you feel really crook?"

Ginny could feel the waves of nausea growing inside her. She swallowed heavily and opened her eyes, squinting in the light. She closed them again, the sweat beads beginning to appear on her forehead. "I think you should stop the car."

Dave braked suddenly, pulling to the side of the road with a screech. The sudden stop of motion made Ginny feel even dizzier, and she pitched forward, slamming back against her seat with a soft groan. Dave got out of the car and rushed around to her door, opening it and squatting down beside her. He took her hand.

"Come out here in the fresh air," he said, pulling on her hand gently. She turned her head slowly to look up at him. His face creased with worry. "Come on, Gin."

Ginny slowly swung her legs out of the car and stood up shakily, leaning on Dave for support. Once upright, she felt worse than before and bent her legs, lowering herself to the ground. She stared down at the dirt by the road, taking laboured breaths, her stomach heaving. She moaned softly as another wave of nausea hit and rocked her.

"Ginny," Dave said softly. He was kneeling behind her, holding her up. "More deep breaths, that's it."

Ginny's whole body tensed as her stomach lurched violently. She just _knew_ she was going to throw up and she desperately didn't want to do it in front of Dave. She turned away from him, reaching towards the bushes at the side of the road.

"Ginny..." Dave said from behind her. "Careful, now..."

There was the sound of liquid raining on grass as Ginny's breakfast participated in an emergency evacuation. She could feel Dave's hands on her waist, holding her up as she retched. She felt _horrible._ Lavender's bug had finally caught up with her at last. She groaned and tried to sit back on her heels.

"No," Dave said gently. "Keep forward for a bit longer."

Ginny moaned softly. "I'm sorry," she tried to say. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he replied, his arms encircling her waist and taking all of her weight. "Just relax, Gin; that's it. Are you feeling better now that's done?"

"Yes," she whispered feebly. She licked her lips, grimacing at the taste. That'd teach her to drink pumpkin juice.

"Okay," Dave said after a moment. "I'm going to take you home. Do you feel up to the car trip?" Ginny nodded. "Alright. Let's get you into the car."

"WAIT!" Ginny said forcibly. The bobbing motion of being carried up the front walk was too much. She didn't even know why he was bothering to carry her in; it wasn't as if she had injured herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it was comforting. "Feel sick," she whimpered, closing her eyes. Dave set her down on the path. "Yuck," Ginny whispered, leaning over the garden bed and feeling the now-familiar nausea rising up in her again. "Not again."

"I'm going to let you go, Ginny," Dave said. His grip on her waist slackened. "Okay?"

"Okay," she replied. His hands left her body and she sank to the ground. He was kneeling beside her in a flash, his eyes shining with concern.

"Alright?" he asked quickly.

"Fine," she replied softly, trying her best not to throw up again.

"I'll be _right_ back," he promised before getting to his feet and dashing up the path to the front door. Ginny could hear him hammering on the door and it opening slowly.

Moments later, Dave returned. "Still feeling like you're going to be crook?" She nodded. "I'm going to carry you in, okay?

There was a snort from the porch. Ginny tried to turn her head to see who it was.

"Okay?" Dave pressed. At Ginny's nod, he took around the waist again. "Spit," he instructed. Ginny obeyed. "Good. Okay, up we go!" Ginny's stomach heaved as she fought the nausea.

"Quick," she said quietly as he rushed her up the walk. Her headache was returning worse than before. She caught sight of Draco standing next to the door, looking faintly bemused. "What?" she muttered.

"Feeling a bit out of sorts, Weasley?" he drawled.

"Could you move out of the way, please?" Dave requested. Draco was obstructing his path. He moved aside slowly. "Thanks," Dave said. "This room, Ginny?" He indicated her bedroom.

"Yes," she said. Dave carried her into the room and placed her gently on the bed. Draco materialised behind him with a plastic bucket. Ginny felt too sick to even be surprised. She curled up in a ball on the bed, concentrating on the feeling in her stomach and trying to ignore it at the same time.

"What should we do?" Draco asked Dave.

"Get her some water," Ginny heard Dave reply. "I'll stay here awhile."

Draco was silent for a moment. "Okay," he eventually replied and then left the room. Dave sat down next to Ginny's still form and massaged her back gently. Ginny appreciated what he was trying to do but the movement made her feel a hundred times worse. She tried to protest but the words stopped at her lips before they were formed. He mistook her protest for satisfaction.

"Won't be long now, Gin," he said encouragingly. "Then you can have some water and try to sit up for awhile."

Ginny heard Draco reenter. A glass of water appeared at her lips. She lifted her head to take in a few drops before lying back down, feeling even worse. She closed her eyes, her mouth slightly open and resting against the cotton pillowcase. Her mouth felt dry. She could feel Dave sitting next to her, making the bed dip slightly toward him. The fight to keep to her side of the bed was taxing her. She tensed up, feeling dangerously close to being sick again.

"I'll stay here," Dave was telling Draco again.

"You don't need to," Draco replied. "I can look after her."

"Yeah," Dave said after a moment. "But I'll stay anyway."

The voices grew fainter and fainter as Ginny drifted off into a dreamless, head-achy sleep.


	5. Reuniting

**Chapter 5**

_**Reuniting**_

_A candle throws its light into the darkness  
in a nasty world so shines a good deed  
Make sure the fortune that you seek  
is the fortune that you need_

_Ben Harper "Diamonds On The Inside"_

"Ginny?"

Through the haze of dreams, a persistent knocking sounded. Ginny rolled onto her side and opened her eyes blearily, looking at her small alarm clock. 7:02.

"Ginny? Are you awake?"

_Who the bleeding hell interrupts people at 7:02 in the morning?!_ Ginny thought in irritation. She raised her arms above the covers, sighing as she stretched her muscles wearily. _Three hours more..._

"Ginny!" Lavender's voice rang through the door. "You have a visitor!"

_What? Who? WHY?_

"I'm not taking visitors at this time of day," Ginny called out.

"What?" Lavender replied. "I can't hear you."

"I want to go back to sleep!"

"I still can't hear you, Ginny," Lavender said, turning the knob. "I'm coming in!"

"Ugh! Fine!" Ginny grumbled, her voice muffled as she nestled back into the pillow. "Just don't expect me to answer any questions."

"Morning, Gin!" a bright and cheery voice greeted her. Ginny peeped over the covers to see Hermione next to Lavender. "How are you?"

"Hermione!" Ginny said, very pleased. "I'm alright, apart from throwing up all the time!" As Hermione's face wrinkled in disgust, Ginny hid a grin. "Sorry. How are you?"

"I'm alright," Hermione said, smiling. "Still missing a leg but I'm assured that my lizard-like re-growth qualities will kick in soon."

"Brilliant," Ginny laughed. She held her arms out to her old friend, yawning, and waited until Hermione had wheeled herself over the bedside and embraced her. "It's so good to see you!" she told her.

"Too right," Lavender piped up. "But I've got to get to work now; sorry, Hermione, I'd make you a cup of tea but unfortunately the science department is already angry at me for missing my first week."

Hermione blinked. "Science department?" she asked quizzically. "I thought you were going to be chasing up rogue magic?"

"Yeah, I am," Lavender said, adjusting her hat and checking her teeth in Ginny's full-length mirror. "In a science laboratory on the other side of London. A few Muggle scientists got hold of a few spells whizzing about and, I'm told, a few bodies of those killed by the Killing Curse, so..." She gave a delicate shrug. "I get to clear up that mess. I'll catch you two birds later. Bye!" She blew kisses to them before breezing out the door.

"Still a bundle of energy, then," Hermione observed.

Ginny cracked a grin. "Somewhat."

Hermione squeezed Ginny's hands. "So tell me what's going on with you."

"Nothing new!" Ginny sighed.

Hermione laughed. "How about work, then?"

"Ah," Ginny said. "Yes. When I was last at work, Dave was getting a bit closer to the truth regarding a politician's untimely demise, so that was keeping me on my toes." At Hermione's curious expression, she elaborated. "Dave has been investigating the death of a local politician named Harry Jenkins. Judging from the file, I'd say he was killed by the Killing Curse – he was staying at the same hotel that You Know Who infiltrated during his final attack, so it's highly likely that was the cause of his death. Only problem is, Jenkins was a high profile politician – treasurer, or something – and had a lot of money. So his family is very keen to find out how he died, and Dave is very keen to be the one who discovers how it happened, though I'm not sure why." She sighed. "It's getting harder and harder to lie to him."

Hermione nodded, looking thoughtful. "I don't really know what you can do, Ginny," she said. "Lying to a friend isn't easy or... well, it's not morally right, either. I really don't know what to suggest. I don't think I could lie to my friends." She shook her head. "I guess you've already considered the 'let him find out the truth and then memory charm him' plan?"

Ginny pulled a face. "I don't want to do that at all." She lifted her shoulders helplessly. "He's my friend."

"Anything more than that?" Hermione asked innocently.

Ginny frowned and yanked the pillow from behind her head, throwing it at the other girl. Hermione ducked and squealed. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry!"

"Mmm." Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Don't even go there."

Hermione adjusted a lever on the side of her chair. "Is Draco here?"

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe." Her stomach lurched; from the illness or the thought of him, she couldn't be sure. "Ugh, I feel sick again."

"Want me to grab you some flat lemonade?" Hermione offered. At Ginny's tired smile, she started wheeling herself toward the door. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

"Thanks," Ginny called after her before settling down again. She had no sooner rediscovered the position in which she had slept so fitfully before the phone rang. "Damn it! Hello?"

"Uh..." a timid voice ventured. "Ginny?"

"Yes," she said. "Sorry. I'm just tired. Who is this?"

The voice laughed warmly. "Sorry, Gin. It's Dave."

"Dave!" Ginny said, unable to keep the smile from her voice. "Hello! How are you?"

"I think the question should be how are _you_?" Dave replied. "Are you better?"

"Oh, yes," Ginny found herself saying before shaking her head. "Actually, no. Well... yes and no. I'm not still throwing up all the time but still feel like crap."

Hermione reentered the room. "Who is it?" she mouthed.

"Dave," Ginny mouthed back. Hermione made "Oooh!" noises before Ginny gave her the two-fingered salute.

"That sucks," Dave was saying. "I- ah, damn. Look, I've got to go but I'll call you up later in the day to check how ya goin', alright?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, feeling oddly pleased. "Okay. Thanks."

"No problem," Dave responded. "See ya."

"Bye." Ginny replaced the phone on its hook before shaking her finger at Hermione. "That's so juvenile, Herm!"

"Fun, though," Hermione pointed out merrily. "Can't complain about anything that's fun!" She set the glass of flat lemonade on Ginny's night stand. "There you go."

"Thanks," Ginny said gratefully, drinking from it. "Ah. Nothing quite like flat lemonade."

"I could bring in dry biscuits too, you know," Hermione pointed out.

"True," Ginny grimaced at the thought. "I can't believe how sick that potion made me."

"The one Susan gave you?" Hermione asked quizzically, wheeling herself slowly around Ginny's room. "Nice painting."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "The river Thames. And yeah, the potion Susan gave me. Turns out I'm allergic to leprechaun blood."

"Oh, no!" Hermione was instantly concerned. "Shouldn't you be at St. Mungo's? I can't believe she gave you a potion that you could develop an allergic reaction to!"

"Chances of allergy to leprechaun blood are one in five million," Ginny informed her. "I'm just lucky."

Hermione smiled. "Gee, I wish I were that lucky."

"Mmm," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, anyway, I didn't want to go to St. Mungo's. She gave me the allergy antidote and I'm taking that on top of a different potion to fix the stomach bug. Well, was," Ginny amended. "Technically, the bug is gone. Now I'm just sick because of the allergy."

"I wouldn't have thought an allergy would be too hard to treat," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I've read of lots of potions for reducing susceptibility to allergy attacks; even some where it gets rid of the allergy completely."

"Yes, but I had the bug," Ginny reminded her. "They couldn't give me a potion like that while I was still being treated for the bug. I've started the allergy antidote now..." She closed her eyes briefly. "It tastes worse than vomit flavoured Bertie Botts. But Susan assures me that I should be cured within the week. She felt terribly over it." She opened her eyes again to see Hermione watching her closely.

"Poor Susan," Hermione said finally. "She's had it a bit rough."

"Haven't we all," Ginny remarked. The phone rang again and she glared at it before picking it up. "Hello?"

"It's me again," Dave said hurriedly. "Just wanted to tell you that I miss you and you need to get your butt back to work before—oh, damn." Dave cut off abruptly, his voice changing tone completely. "Yes," he said in an official tone. "The Jenkins investigation. I—okay, then, I'll get back to you later. Thanks. Bye... Boss! How are you doing? Come in!"

The line went dead.

Ginny replaced the receiver, shaking her head.

"Dave again?" Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded.

"Short conversation," Hermione ventured.

Ginny broke out into a big grin. "But the funniest one I've had all week!"

Ginny awoke to the sound of sniffing and deep, rasping sobs. She sat up in bed, the hair on the back of her neck prickling. Beside her, Hermione stirred. Ginny looked at her bedroom door before reaching across to her nightstand and picking up her wand. The door swung open slowly at her whispered command, enabling Ginny to hear the commotion clearly. Hermione raised herself up on her elbows, looking inquiringly at Ginny.

"What's going on out there?" she whispered.

"I don't know," Ginny whispered back. A glance at her alarm clock revealed that this was happening at the ungodly hour of two o'clock in the morning. "I'm so sorry; I know you have to get to work early."

"Oh, that's alright," Hermione responded. "Are you feeling okay, or do you want me to go out? Only--" she pointed at her wheelchair helplessly. "Takes awhile to assemble."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "No, that's fine; I'll just go out and see who is making all the noise. You go back to sleep."

"Oh, please," Hermione snorted. "And miss all the excitement?"

Ginny smiled. She pulled back the covers, shivering at the blast of cool air across her bare legs. She swung her feet onto the floor, pulling herself up a little shakily. She slipped her feet into her moccasins and padded across the room to the door. She peered out around the frame, squinting in the gloom to make out two hunched figures on the stairs. Susan and Draco. Ginny moved out into the hallway. They looked up.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked in a hushed tone.

Susan, she could see, was crying. And Draco, it seemed, was doing his best to comfort her. "She's upset," he explained.

_Oh, well spotted,_ Ginny thought callously. "Are you okay, Sue?"

Susan's only reply was a muffled sob. Ginny moved closer to the calamity, reaching out and brushing Susan's hair out of her eyes. Draco had an arm around Susan's back and was patting it awkwardly.

"Sue?" Ginny asked again. "Do you need anything?"

Susan gave a muffled gasp. "My ignorance," she moaned.

"Your ignorance?" Ginny repeated, concerned. "What's happened?"

Draco was mouthing something at her.

"What?" she mouthed back.

He mouthed something else.

"I've got no idea what you're saying!" she said, annoyed.

Susan looked up, brushing away more tears. "I've had an owl from Parvati Thomas," she said softly.

Ginny felt her stomach turn to ice. "Is it Dean?" she asked hoarsely.

"No, your precious ex-boyfriend is fine," Draco said coldly.

Ginny shot him a venomous glance.

"No," Susan replied. "It's Ernie."

"Ernie?" Ginny was confused. "What happened to him?" _And how did Parvati know about it?_ Parvati had fallen pregnant to Dean Thomas straight after her seventh year and married him not long after. Five children didn't enable the former gossip and know-all of Hogwarts to get out much.

"Parvati saw him," Susan continued through hiccups. "She was out for some hen's night thing for a Muggle cousin of hers at a club in London."

"Okay," Ginny said. "And?"

"And she saw Ernie in the club," Draco supplied. Susan nodded. Ginny was still confused.

"So?" she asked. "What was he doing?"

"Kissing another girl," Susan said, staring down at her hands, watching them shake. "Snogging someone else senseless against a dimly lit wall in London's sleaziest nightclub."

"Oh, Sue," Ginny said softly. She sat down next to her on the stairs, squashed up against the wall. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Was he drunk?"

"I don't know," Susan said hopelessly. "Maybe?"

"What else did Parvati say?" Draco asked.

"Not much," Susan said, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Only that she saw him."

"Could she have been mistaken?" Ginny asked. Draco winced as Susan lashed out.

"How could she have been mistaken?" she cried angrily. "No one else in the world looks like Ernie Macmillan! It's highly unlikely that his identical twin was in a London nightclub rubbing up against some tart!"

"Sorry," Ginny said quickly. "I--"

"Forget it," Susan said flatly. "I'm going up to bed."

Ginny could only watch as she got up, accompanied by Draco.

"I'm alright," Susan told Draco, heading up the stairs.

"Yes," he said, "but I'm going to come up with you anyway."

"You don't have to!" she shot at him.

"Well, my bedroom is next to yours," he pointed out wryly. "So you could say I'm going that way."

Ginny hid a smile as she watched them disappear around the hallway corner and headed back into her bedroom. Hermione was still sitting up in the darkness.

"I heard everything," she said sympathetically. "Who would've thought Ernie Macmillan would cheat on Susan?"

"Bastard," Ginny agreed, clambering back into bed.

Ginny yawned and stretched. She'd reduced the mountain of paperwork required by the Ministry for her "Muggle World Excursion" from six centimeters high to merely two. It had only taken her three hours. She glanced at the clock. She figured an extra hour or so wouldn't hurt. She picked up her quill again. The phone rang.

"You never stop ringing, do you," Ginny asked the phone, staring pointedly at it before sighing and picking it up. "Hello, Ginny Weasley speaking."

"Ginny!" a warm voice said excitedly. "I haven't talked to you in so long!"

"Harry!" Ginny echoed his excitement. "Oh wow! No, you really haven't! How've you been?"

"Oh, you know," he laughed. "Struggling without seeing you every day."

"Oh, get on with you," Ginny replied, giggling. "What've you been up to?"

"Oh, please," Harry sounded exasperated. "What haven't I been up to might be quicker to answer! Anything and everything, Gin. The war is over but the clean up job is worse than a thousand Firewhiskey Shooter parties."

Ginny smiled. "How's life at the Ministry?"

"Never there," Harry said ruefully. "Always out cleaning up. It's boring. Well, except for the week I spent with the twins recently in New York."

Ginny laughed out loud. "Oh, Merlin, that's right; I'd forgotten you were going there to help them out for a bit."

"They complained the whole time," Harry replied good-naturedly. "They don't like New York, because no one understands their pranks. And they don't like New York people, because they get looked at funny if they tell them they don't drink coffee. Apparently George got thrown out of a café for asking for pumpkin juice – the manager thought he was drunk!"

"Typical!" Ginny couldn't help smiling at the thought of her older brothers. "How are they? I haven't seen them since they went."

"Yeah, they said the same thing," Harry agreed. "They're fine physically. I think they're just annoyed with the Americans. They can't wait to come back to their joke shop."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "And when do you suppose that will be?"

There was a pause. "Who knows?" Harry said finally. "I'm afraid I don't have all the answers."

"Too right, too right," Ginny said quickly. "Dad hasn't said anything about when he hopes the cleaning will be wound up either."

Harry snorted. "Your dad has no idea."

Ginny was shocked. "Harry, are--"

"No, that came out the wrong way," Harry interrupted. "I meant that he doesn't have any clue when it will be ended. I'm calculating in a couple of months' time at best, probably closer to six."

"So I'll be here awhile," Ginny mused.

"Yep." Harry paused. "You're still enjoying it, right?"

"Oh, yes," Ginny said. "Well, I've been sick, but--"

"You've been _sick_?" Harry interrupted again. "Are you okay?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes," she responded. "I'm getting better."

"You're still sick!" Harry sounded horrified. "Should I come around?"

"No, no, no," Ginny protested. "Hermione's been to see me."

"Hermione!" Harry sounded scornful. "She's in a wheelchair! Do you need someone to carry you about, plump your pillows and fetch your drinks?"

"Blimey." Ginny was amused. "Do you want to be my manservant?"

"I don't want you to have to look after yourself," Harry replied. "I know how busy Lav and Sue are." He sighed. "Are you sure you don't need me to come? I think I'll come anyway, I haven't seen you in awhile."

"I'm _fine,_" Ginny reiterated. "But I guess it would be nice to see you."

"You guess?" Harry teased. "Don't you know it?"

Ginny smiled. "Ah, of course."

"Did your dad end up finding another housemate for you guys?" Harry asked abruptly, changing tack. "He'd mentioned the possibilities to me awhile back but I never did find out exactly who got stuck with you lot."

"Stuck with our lot?" Ginny grinned. "More like we got stuck with him!"

"Him who?" Harry pressed.

"Him, Draco Malfoy," Ginny told him.

There was a silence before Ginny heard Harry laugh in relief. "You're joking. My god, I almost believed you for a minute there."

"I'm not joking," Ginny assured him.

"Really." Ginny could hear Harry's frown. "You're not messing with me?"

"No," Ginny sighed. "I'm not messing with you at all."

"That's insane," Harry said in a low voice. "Why the bleeding hell is Draco Malfoy living with you?"

"I've been through this already," Ginny said, not wanting to go into it. "Believe me. He's here and he isn't going anywhere."

"But he's so--"

"Mean; yes, I know," Ginny completed his sentence.

"Mean!" Harry sounded scornful. "There are things that Draco Malfoy could teach tropical diseases about being mean."

"Well, there's nothing that you or I can do about it," Ginny said. "Dad wasn't impressed when I asked for him to be transferred. I'm not trying again."

"Maybe I could give it a--"

"No," Ginny said firmly. "Leave Dad alone."

"But Malfoy is such a--"

"Bastard; yes, I know."

"Well, yes, but he's so horrible and vindictive and--"

"Likely to murder me in my sleep, I know!" Ginny finished for him. "Seriously, I'm over it now. I don't like it, and I definitely don't like him, but I'm over it."

"I'm not," Harry stated. "I think I should come and stay for a few nights."

"Where?" Ginny asked sweetly. "In his bed?"

"No, yours," Harry shot back.

"Yeah, right." Ginny blew a strand of hair off her face, playing idly with the phone cord. "Because that's a brilliant idea."

Harry laughed. "What am I, your biggest mistake?"

"No," Ginny said fondly. "Just my favourite one."

Ginny could sense Harry was smiling. "I hear you're getting pretty close to a guy at work."

"Who'd you hear that from?" Ginny asked, intrigued.

"Seamus Finnigan," Harry said.

"Seamus Finnigan?" Ginny repeated in surprise. "How would he know?"

"Apparently he's at the BDI working in your place while you're sick," Harry said. "Ran into him at Diagon Alley the other day. He said that you're all the other guy can talk about."

"Aww." Ginny couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Dave is such a tripper."

"Dave, is it?" Harry teased her. "Do I have some competition?"

"Oh, plenty of it, Harry," Ginny agreed. "You'll be fighting through the masses with a big stick just to get a glimpse of me."

Harry laughed again. "Ginny, I am definitely going to come and visit you very soon."

"Oh yes, when?" she asked.

"Now?" he suggested.

"Now?!" she repeated. "It's ten o'clock!"

"We used to stay up much later than that," Harry replied in a deep voice. "One moment." There was a click as he hung up, and then a _pop_ as he apparated into her bedroom. "Ahhh. Perfect timing. In your pyjamas already." He advanced towards the bed, grinning at her. He held out his arms. "Do I get a hug?"

"Do you ever!" Ginny launched herself out of the bed and into his embrace. She hugged him tightly, reveling in the thrills it shot through her. "I've really missed you!"

"Have you?" he asked lightly, pulling back to look down at her. "I've missed you too." Quick as a flash, he planted a kiss on her lips. "Been awhile since I've done that!"

"Certainly has," Ginny replied, turning her face away from his slightly. "Can I get you anything?"

"I think the question should be, can I get _you_ anything?" Harry responded. "You go to bed. I'll sit here and entertain you."

Ginny clambered back into her bed. She settled into the pillows, smiling sleepily at him. "I'm too tired for entertaining, Harry."

"That's alright," he replied. "I'll sit here and watch you sleep."

"You can't do that!" Ginny was scandalised. "How embarrassing!"

"I've done it plenty of times before!"

Ginny squirmed. "Yeah," she agreed slowly, "but--"

"Ah, I'm only making you jumpy." He winked at her. "You go right to sleep. I'll sit here awhile and make sure the evil Draco doesn't eat you during the night."

"_HARRY POTTER! OH, MY LORD! IT'S BEEN FOREVER!"_

Ginny smiled and paused in her breakfast preparations as she heard Lavender squeal and shout over finding Harry in the hallway of the house. Draco glanced up from his place at the table.

"Potter is here?" he asked quizzically.

Considering no one else was in the room, Ginny conceded that she had to answer him. "Yes."

"_You look so fantastic! Oh my god!" _she heard Lav gushing.

"_Lavender."_ There was a pause. _"Lavender, let go!"_

"Why?" Draco continued. "I didn't hear the doorbell ring."

"Who said he rang the bell?" Ginny snapped. "Maybe he apparated like regular people."

Draco raised his eyebrow, smirking at her. "Or maybe he arrived in the middle of the night and spent a sordid night with you in bed?"

"Oh, please," Ginny mumbled. "Grow up."

Harry and Lavender appeared at the doorway. Harry and Draco immediately stiffened upon sight of each other.

"Potter," Draco said tightly. "Morning, Lavender."

Harry was ignoring Draco. ""How's the toast going, Ginny?"

"Good," she replied, smiling at him. "Very... toasty."

Lavender was bouncing around, very excited. "This is so cool! I didn't even hear you arrive! What time did you get here?"

"Last night, actually," Harry responded.

Draco shot Ginny a knowing look. She turned her back on him and started spreading margarine.

"Last night!" Lavender exclaimed. "Where did you sleep?"

"Just in Ginny's room," Harry responded.

Before Lavender could probe further, Susan arrived in the doorway.

"_Oooof._ Oh, Harry! Hi!" Susan hugged him enthusiastically before bustling into the kitchen. "Look here, girls! We three have got specially coloured envelopes from Neville and Hannah!"

"Ooooh," Lavender said. "It's not _that_ time already...?"

"I think so!" They were squealing with excitement. Susan ripped her envelope open. "Ohh, look! It's the wedding invite!"

"Let me see!" Ginny and Lavender crowded around Susan, trying to read the invitation. "Edward and Sylvia Abbott, together with Grace Longbottom, are very pleased to invite you to attend the wedding of their daughter Hannah and grandson Neville on the twenty fifth of August... Oh, man! It's at the Abbott estate! That place is beautiful!" Lavender declared.

"It sure is!" Susan agreed. "Ah, bliss! How exciting!"

"That is extremely cool," Ginny stated. "I can't wait!"

Harry and Draco were both looking uncomfortable. Malfoy got up and muttered his excuses, leaving quickly. Harry shot a venomous look after him before reaching out for Ginny's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "I didn't kill him," he whispered.

Ginny grinned. "No, you did a good job," she whispered back.

Lavender was eyeing their clasped hands. "Is there something going on I should know about?"

"No," Ginny replied as Harry winked suggestively. Lavender went off into gales of laughter. Ginny smiled before spying Susan gazing out of the kitchen window. Her heart went out to her. "Sue, are you okay?"

Susan turned abruptly at her voice, smiling tentatively. "Fine, fine."

"But- Ernie..." Lavender trailed off.

"Ernie?" Harry was confused. Ginny dug her elbow into his side. "_Ow?"_

"I'm fine," Susan said brightly. "I'm off to work the Muggle way. Anyone want to come?"

"I will," Lavender said quickly, patting Susan on the shoulder. They left in a flurry of bags and perfume, shouting goodbyes to Ginny and Harry, who were left in the kitchen eating their toast. Harry raised his pumpkin juice to his lips, nodding to Ginny before sipping at it.

"Malfoy bought this, didn't he," Harry stated.

"Yes." Ginny was surprised. "How did you know?"

"There're no pips in it."


	6. Garden Gnomes

**Chapter 6**  
_**Garden Gnomes**_

_Did you ever think of me as your best friend?  
Did I ever think of you? I'm not complaining.  
I never tried to feel this vibration.  
I never tried to reach your Eden._

_Hooverphonic – "Eden"_

The sky was grey and the ground was wet. The trees swayed in the relentless breeze. Ginny fancied that they were shivering from the cold. It had been so sunny for the last few days and now, suddenly, it was a perfectly miserable day. The rain fell softly against the window pane and trickled down, each droplet racing the other to the bottom where they pooled on the dirty frame and leaked over the edge. Cars drove past, slower than normal, navigating the slippery road with care. Ginny had taken the bus that morning and had the fright of her life when the driver took a corner too fast during one of the more energetic downfalls. She watched the rain splash in the puddles while she waited for her boss to properly acknowledge her presence in his office.

"It's got to be Sunday!" Andrew shouted suddenly. He was wearing his headset for his telephone and rolled his eyes in a dramatic gesture. "For Pete's sake, Moira, how many times do I have to tell you? I can't come on the Saturday because I'll be extremely busy at work!" He fumbled with the files on his desk. "What do you mean, lying? Bollocks! I'm a supervisor at the BDI, Moira, I--" he paused. "WHAT?"

Ginny politely averted her gaze as he glanced over at her, his cheeks flushing red. She returned her attention to the rain and toyed with the strap of her handbag idly.

"Ridiculous," Andrew said firmly. "If you schedule it on the Saturday, then I won't come, Moira. It's as simple as that. No, it's not a question of my stubbornness, honestly, Moira! You—she hung up on me!" he suddenly shouted in exasperation. "Blow her," he decided. "Mother will tell her where to stick her precious baptism. Weasley!"

Ginny snapped to attention, her mind still trying to take in the information that her boss had offered before yelling at her. He wanted to reschedule a baptism around work? Ginny'd take the day off, no questions asked; declare a national holiday! An excuse to be away from work!

"Yes, Mister Campbell?"

"Weasley," he said again. "You've been away from the BDI for an entire week. I'm unimpressed and I don't buy this 'I was sick' story." His eyes narrowed. "Where were you?"

"Home, sick in bed," Ginny said nervously. "Stomach flu and allergies."

He eyed her. "Are you sure?"

"Fairly sure," she squeaked.

"Alright," he relented. "But mind you don't get sick again." His tone was gruff. "We need you about the place at the moments, things are bedlam."

"Alright, sir, I'll do my best."

"Do that," he responded. "Now. Because you were absent for so bloody long, I had to get a replacement to work with Bryson."

Ginny's stomach dropped. She wouldn't get to work with Dave again?

"Don't look so alarmed," Andrew mocked her. "You will, of course, know the bloke who replaced you. His name is Finnigan or some such. Irish bloke. Tall. Popular with the ladies." His expression darkened. "Too popular. Spends all his time in the lunchroom making idle chit chat with the office girls when he could be out in the field doing his work for a change."

Ginny didn't say anything, trying desperately not to let her boss see the sides of her mouth curling up.

"Anyway, he's been working on the same project that you and Bryson were hammering away at for the whole ten minutes you were here before you went on sick leave--"

Ouch.

"—and also some other project that he refuses to let me read the briefing for, despite the fact that he's working in _my_ division now." Andrew's eyes glittered with scorn. "No respect, that boy. Anyway, that's where they're at. Finnigan won't be here too much longer, just long enough to wrap up his 'secret project' before he goes traipsing back off to Switzerland. I expect Bryson will fill you in." He picked up one of the files on his desk, flipped it open and retrieved a yellow piece of paper. He propped it up on the document holder next to his computer and moved the mouse. He glanced up. "Why are you still here?"

"Sorry!" Ginny jumped to her feet and headed out the door, rolling her eyes as soon as she was out of sight. Talk about being in a bad mood. She smoothed her skirt before making off in the direction of Dave's office.

"Watch it, Weasley," a voice drawled from behind a stack of files. "You could get a girl killed if you charge down here like that." Kristy's eyebrows were raised as she neatly stepped past Ginny.

Ginny tried to smile warmly. "Sorry about that, Kristy."

Kristy shrugged carelessly and headed into Andrew's office.

* * *

"Ginny!"

Ginny had no sooner finished knocking at the door before it was launched open. A pair of strong arms swept her up in a tight hug, holding on for several seconds.

"Okay, Ginny can't breathe," she managed to gasp out.

Dave released her and grinned broadly down at her. "I've _missed_ you!" he declared. He ushered her into the office and let the door shut with a bang after her. "Seamus has been bloody boring compared to you!"

The blonde sitting in Ginny's usual seat threw her a grin. "As if."

Ginny smiled and, leaning over, kissed him on the cheek. "Hello, Seamus."

"Ginny," he acknowledged with a nod.

"Haven't you, Finnigan?" Dave sat on his desk, papers scattering about. "A great bloody bore, that's what you are."

Ginny hid a smile.

"Now, look here," Seamus began. "Just because I don't drink coffee and I've no idea how to play pool doesn't mean I'm boring!"

"Bloody oath it does," Dave confirmed. "And now that Ginny is back, my life will brighten a thousand shades."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Bloody Aussies," he muttered.

Dave grinned. "Seamus won't really be pissing off now that you're here," he told Ginny conspiratorially. "He's on a secret mission. So secret that he won't even tell me what it's about, the great prat, and here I am, his new best friend!"

Seamus was suddenly overcome with a violent fit of coughing that, to Ginny's trained ears, sounded much like, "The hell you are!"

"Bit crook, Seamus?" Dave asked kindly. "Now that Gin's back, you can take a sickie."

Seamus waved his hands airily. "I won't die today, Bryson."

"Bugger," Dave said. "Anyway, Ginny, apparently you and Seamus already know each other? That's the only reason I haven't introduced you yet. I was all game to – had even scripted out a funny and quirky little intro speech for both of you – but no, no, Finnigan here assures me that you know each other better than I know beer!" He managed to look amazed. "How is this possible?"

Ginny laughed. "We went to school together."

"Oh, is that all?" he asked, sounding relieved. "Thought youse had dated or something."

Seamus looked thoughtfully at Ginny. "No, we didn't date," he mused. "But we dated in the same circle. She was with Dean and Harry, and I was with--"

"—everyone," Dave supplied. "Womaniser."

Seamus choked back a laugh. "Yobbo."

"Hey, that's the spirit!" Dave was greatly amused. "All you need is the accent and you're true blue, mate. True blue."

"What were the funny and quirky intro speeches?" Ginny asked.

His smile faded. "Oh, no, no, they're never being let out of kindergarten," he declared. "They're not funny now that you guys actually know each other. No, they're best left alone. Anyway, tell me! How is it that you two went to school together when he's as Irish as the next drunk and you're more British than a brolly?"

"An excellent point," Seamus stalled, turning to Ginny with a dazzling smile. "Gin?"

Damn.

"Um," she started. "Our school was located in, uh, Scotland, actually."

"Scotland!" Dave's eyes gleamed. "Wicked! Y'serious?" At Ginny's nod, he shook his head. "Scotland. That's so cool. Why'd you go to Scotland?" He directed the question at both of them.

"Parents," Seamus said quickly. "Thought I'd get a better education there."

"Private school?" Dave wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Fair enough."

"Same reason from me," Ginny said. "A much more useful education, Dad said."

Seamus smirked.

"Useful education?" Dave was confused. "What, the English and maths you learn at public schools not quite up to scratch?"

"Something like that," Seamus stepped in. "We gonna brief her or what?"

"Oh yeah." Dave flipped his legs over his desk and slid into his chair. "_Crap._ I did _not_ just sit on my application for the next autopsy," he groaned, holding the crumpled paper up. "Oh, well, Kristy's used to worse from me."

Seamus indicated the chair next to him. "Have a seat."

Ginny dropped her bag on the floor and sat down in the chair, shivering at the cold of the firm plastic. "Buy some heated chairs, would you, Dave?"

"Yeah, bit cold in here, eh," he said, riffling around in one of the drawers. "Hit the switch on the heater behind you if it's gonna bother you."

Ginny found the switch and flicked it on. A warm blast of air shot out from the narrow columns, filling the room with a burnt dust smell. Ginny sat back in her chair and tried to breathe through her mouth instead.

"Right," Dave mused, looking at a few documents on the table in front of him. His hand still in his drawer, he frowned and reached further. "Where the smeg did I put them?"

"Put what? Who?" Seamus asked.

"Um," Dave responded. "My glasses."

"You need to wear glasses?" Ginny asked in surprise. "I haven't seen you wear them before!"

"Yeah," Dave said vaguely, putting on a pair of rectangular shaped frames. "They don't really suit me so I try not to."

Seamus studied him. "They make you look clever," he observed.

"They're charmed that way," Dave laughed.

"Really?" Ginny asked before she caught herself.

"Cor, you're gullible, aren't you, Ginny?" Dave smirked at her. "Next thing you know, I'll pull a wand out of my pocket and cast spells on the lot of us."

Ginny said nothing, her face burning. Seamus shot her A Look.

"_Abracadabra,_ I am now a sexy beast!" Dave shouted, jumping up from his seat and doing a hasty twirl. He struck a pose. "Did it work, or _what_?"

"I think your wand is broken," Seamus said dryly. It was Ginny's turn to smirk and she did so with relish.

"Don't you go knocking my wand," Dave said severely, sitting back down.

Seamus choked back a laugh. "_Or lack thereof!"_ Ginny laughed out loud.

"I'll prove it, if you like," Dave offered.

"No, no, no, no, no," Seamus said hastily. "Come on, we need to tell her the ruddy plan before it freezes over in the next ice age."

"Plan?" Ginny asked cautiously, switching back into business mode.

"Well..." Dave sighed tiredly. "Kind of. I'm applying for another autopsy to be performed on Harry Jenkins' body."

"Because..." Seamus prompted.

"Because," Dave mimicked him. "Because I'm beginning to think this wasn't just some straight-forward murder."

"Are you mad?" Ginny asked before she could stop herself. "Isn't that why you've been investigating it?"

"True," he conceded with a wink. "No; what I meant to say is that... I think... the supernatural forces might be at work here."

Ginny was dumbfounded. She looked to Seamus for an explanation but he was very busy looking out at the clouds. If Ginny hadn't known better, she'd have sworn she could see the corners of his mouth curling up. Then it struck her; she didn't know better. Seamus was smirking!

"The supernatural forces," she repeated neutrally. "Expand?"

Dave was pushing a sheet of paper toward her. She picked it up from the desk and looked at it. It seemed to her to be a picture of some sort of hippie slash goth wearing a variety of pendants and sitting next to an oversized, blackened and very old-fashioned cauldron.

"Again," Ginny said, "expand?"

"It's a picture of a witch," Dave said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. Seamus was openly smirking now. Dave caught the look. "Oh, I suppose you don't believe in it, Finnigan; you are a very skeptical bloke."

"A witch?" Ginny was very confused. Firstly, since when did Dave know about the wizarding world? And secondly, since when were witches _male?_

"Yes, a witch!" Dave smiled at her. "Have you heard of Paganism, Ginny?"

"Paganism?" Ginny wrinkled her nose as she tried to remember what the term stood for. Damn her for not paying attention in Muggle Studies. Paganism. Some sort of Muggle religion. But what did it have to do with male witches?

"No?" Dave seemed surprised. "Have you lived under a rock?"

"She's from a small town, Dave. No witches there," Seamus added helpfully.

"What?" Ginny was thoroughly confused now. "Witches? Male witches?" Why the hell hadn't she paid attention to Muggle religions? Hadn't she passed that assignment? She'd done it on the Latter-day Saints, or the Presbyterians, or some lot.

Dave raised his eyebrow. "Do you think that witches can only be females?"

Ginny gestured with her hands, flustered. "I don't know!" _Yes, you idiot!_

"She doesn't understand it at all, Dave," Seamus noted.

"I can see that," Dave observed. "So you don't know anything about Paganism, Ginny?"

Ginny took a deep breath and willed herself to keep her cool.

"What the bleeding hell is Paganism?" she asked.

"A religion," Dave said patiently. "Pagans are devoted to nature and the environment. It's basically an umbrella term for a wide range of other religions like wicca, shamanism, druidry..." He looked at her closely. "My father is a Pagan," he said. "That's who the guy in the picture is."

"Okay..." Ginny said slowly, absorbing the new information. "So your father is a Pagan, not a witch."

"Oh, no, he's a witch too," Dave said. "He's Wiccan."

"What's Wiccan?" Ginny asked, frustrated.

"One of the religions underneath the Paganism umbrella," Dave responded. "Wiccans are witches. They communicate with their God and Goddess and work magic for whatever purpose they feel called to do."

"Not magic like in fairytales," Seamus put in hurriedly.

Dave was amused. "I think that goes without saying," he remarked.

"Oh, not real magic," Ginny said, perplexed. She shot a glance at Seamus, wondering what his initial reaction had been. "So what kind of magic?"

"Well, it's hard to define," Dave said thoughtfully. "Every witch is different and practices magic a different way. In fact, a lot of them would take offense at the way I've described it. Their working of magic is, very broadly speaking, manipulation of the life force and energy that surrounds every living object."

"It's rather complicated," Seamus said. "And highly irrelevant at this stage."

"Yes, I do actually have a point," Dave conceded. "I was discussing the case with my father and he thought that perhaps Jenkins may have been cursed."

"An Unforgivable curse?" Ginny asked. She shut her mouth furiously, refusing to meet Seamus' angry stare. One more slip like that and Dave would get suspicious.

"Unforgivable?" Dave repeated. "Well, yeah. I don't think curses are smiled upon in this part of the world. Or in any part."

_Too right,_ Ginny agreed silently.

"It's worth exploring, anyway," Seamus said. "Don't you think, Ginny?"

"Oh," she replied. "Um... yeah, I suppose so."

"I see you don't know quite what to make of it," Dave said sympathetically. "Never mind, I didn't know quite what to think the day my dad came home with his brand new attitude after some forest rally. He met a bunch of Pagans and from then on in, our house was _very_ environmentally conscious."

Ginny raised her eyebrow. Was it a coincidence that a Muggle religion of sorts was so loosely based on the wizarding world? And what a blow that Dave had decided to investigate supernatural explanations for the death of Harry Jenkins. What on earth could Ginny do to prevent Dave from discovering the truth without him feeling like she was meddling? _And_ without using memory charms... it was going to be a challenge, and one that she hoped she was up to.

"Gonna head down to the photocopier," Dave said, getting up from his chair. "I'll photocopy this autopsy application and give it to Kristy so she can process it sometime before Christmas and then maybe we'll finally get a lead in this case." He gave Ginny a mock salute before exiting the room. "Don't get up to anything in there, Finnigan," he called over his shoulder cheerily.

Seamus looked out the office door and waited until Dave was properly gone. He shut the door and turned around to face Ginny, exhaling slowly. "Close one."

"Cor blimey," Ginny agreed, sinking her chin to rest in the palm of her hand. "It never even occurred to me that he could get this close to the truth."

"Yeah," Seamus said, returning to his seat next to her. He looked at her keenly. "But you do realise that we can't allow him to find out, don't you?"

"Yes," Ginny said irritably. "I know that, I just don't like it!"

"I can see you're friends with him." Seamus shrugged. "But if he gets too close, we'll have to _Obliviate_ him. There's no other way. He can't find out about us."

Ginny sighed. "Well, what can we tell him? How can we throw him off the scent?" She felt glum. "Maybe we could arrange for a phony Pagan expert to pronounce the body free of curse and just... I dunno... burn it?!"

Seamus inclined his eyebrow. "Is that a good idea?"

"Uh, probably not."

Seamus sighed. "I don't really like this either. Contrary to what you've probably gathered from my banter with Dave today, I do actually really like the guy and I don't like lying to him either. But what can we do? We have our orders. And frankly, once we've covered this one up, the rest of them will come very easily and then we can return to the wizarding world, to normal jobs."

"Normal," Ginny muttered. "I'm beginning to lose my grip on normality."

"We can only do our best, Gin," Seamus reassured her. "If he finds out, he finds out. We'll just have to deal with it when the time comes."

"And in the meantime?"

Seamus shrugged. "Wing it?"

* * *

Ginny sighed and stretched, leaning back in the lounge chair. The sunlight was warm on her bare arms and legs and she shifted her weight contentedly. The garden was fairly bare but had a nice lawn and trim garden beds, though they overflowed with weed flowers. A few tall sweeping trees lined the fences and an empty birdbath sat in the corner. Ginny had opted to sit here and read the book she'd found in the cupboard in her room while Susan and Lavender shopped for groceries. She didn't know where Draco was but at the moment, was happiest not caring. A glass of lemonade sat on the grubby glass table by her side and she raised it to her lips, taking in the cool liquid and letting it run over her tongue before swallowing.

Ginny had never read a 'classic' English novel before but that was precisely what she had seemed to stumble on. _'Magic for Marigold'_ by L. M. Montgomery, a first edition copy, had been found tucked away in the darkest corner of the cupboard in her room. The title had interested Ginny, for what could Muggles possibly know of magic? And then she'd remembered this Pagan business and thought it most advantageous that she'd stumbled across this novel. So far, however, Paganism wasn't mentioned at all. Marigold was sitting by Old Grandmother's side in the moonlit garden and nothing remotely curse-like of the sort was happening. Still, Ginny was enjoying the story. She thought it very poor that the entire family had argued for months and months over what to call the little baby, and all because her father had died! Of course, that seemed tragic too. Poor Marigold, to grow up without a father. Ginny couldn't imagine life without her father. Happy, buoyant Arthur Weasley with his fascination for all things shiny and Muggle. Ginny loved her father dearly and hated the thought of the day when she would eventually lose him. The same, naturally, went for her mother and any of her brothers. Well, except Percy. He was as good as dead anyway. He had been missing since the war ended; presumed dead. Ginny couldn't honestly say that she'd prefer he was alive. He'd caused her family so much grief over the years that she no longer considered him a part of it. His being alive would only cause her unease with the knowledge that someone made up of the same flesh and blood could be so deceitful and betraying – to the very people who gave him life, no less.

Ginny sometimes couldn't help wondering what had driven Percy to do it. Had there been some sort of smug satisfaction in publicly humiliating his father at the Ministry and declaring allegiance to Minister Fudge, regardless of the path the man chose to follow? How had Percy even developed the seemingly insatiable need to enter the Ministry's ranks and work his way up? Where had the Weasleys gone wrong? Was it because of all the teasing and ribbing Percy had gotten from his brothers; completely harmless – or was it? Had they driven him to it? Had she, Ginny, driven him to through endless laughing at his relationship with Penelope Clearwater? Ginny had heard that Penelope and Percy had gotten married quietly a couple of weeks before the mess in the war really came to a head. How could he have done that without his family by his side? Ginny didn't know the answers. She supposed she never would.

"Weasley."

Draco appeared at her side and draped himself over the chair next to hers. She gave him a frosty look through her tinted sunglasses.

"Yes?" she inquired, arching her eyebrows at him.

"You look blue, Weasley," Draco stated, ignoring her cold expression.

"Do I really?" she asked politely, making a point of returning her attention to her book.

Draco sat there silently for a moment. Ginny stole a peek at him and to her horror, discovered him watching her. He smirked at her and she flushed a bright red. Furious with herself for looking, she snatched her gaze from his and looked stormily at her page, wishing desperately that he would go away. Ever since he had arrived, they'd done nothing but snipe at each other all day long; hardly the grounds for a blossoming friendship. _Lavender, _though, had had seemingly no trouble becoming friends with the former Slytherin. Ginny wasn't sure if it was the best friendship she'd heard of.

"What ails you?" Draco pressed.

"Nothing," Ginny replied shortly, keeping her gaze trained on her book.

"It's your precious boyfriend, isn't it," Draco decided.

Ginny's head whipped around to stare at him accusingly.

"Who?" she snapped.

"Who indeed," Draco said mockingly. "Perhaps it's the famous Boy Who Lived who likes to show up in the middle of the night and sleep with you... Or perhaps it's the rugged and manly Aussie bloke who likes to carry you in his arms... Or, as my sources inform me, perhaps it's the Irish bloke with funny ears who used to talk too much?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. "Shut up, Malfoy," she said warningly.

"Or...?" he asked lightly.

"Or I'll lock you in a room with all three of them until the moon glows neon green and you've figured out that not a single one of them is romantically interested in me," Ginny said cuttingly.

Draco shrugged. "Whatever. I shouldn't like to see the state of them after it."

"Why?" Ginny asked before she could stop herself.

He smirked infuriatingly. "I'm not telling, Weasley."

"Mature." She rolled her eyes.

Draco shrugged. "I don't recall declaring at any stage that I am." His mouth tilted. "Does it bother you?"

"What?"

"My lack of maturity." He stretched languidly. "Does it bother you?" he repeated.

"Why would it bother me?" Ginny asked, annoyed with him for asking such personal questions. "I don't really care if you're mature or not. It's got nothing to do with me."

"Oh, come on," Draco scoffed. "You live in the same house as me; everything about my personality has everything to do with you!"

Ginny regarded him with icy eyes. "I make sure it doesn't," she said finally, feeling as though she'd just lost a battle; though about what, she couldn't tell.

Draco sighed. Ginny looked away. "Weasley, Weasley, Weasley," he said. "How will I ever get through to you?"

"About what?" Ginny sighed herself. This'd be good.

"Break you down; become your friend!" He eyed her. "Lavender and Susan are quite happy to leave past grievances in the past; why aren't you?"

Ginny could only stare at him, completely surprised. They'd barely spoken two words to each other since he'd moved in – and when they had, they hadn't been civil words – so why was he pretending that he wanted to be her friend? It had to be some sort of reverse psychology, she decided finally. He was trying to get her off her guard, just so he could laugh at her. Well, she wasn't having a bar of it.

"Don't talk such rubbish," she said shortly, returning her attention to her book. "We aren't friends."

"We could be," Draco continued.

"Shut _up!"_ Ginny exclaimed, not lifting her eyes from the page. "We aren't and never will be."

He remained silent for a moment. Perhaps he was absorbing this information or was merely looking for a new way to strike at her. Presently, he rose. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Ginny," he said. She looked up and could see the laughter positively dancing in his eyes. She narrowed her own. "I mean- we could have been best friends."

"I've already got a best friend," she said, thinking of Harry and Hermione.

"They were a trio before you came along," Draco said succinctly. "I saw them. I was there. They didn't need a fourth wheel."

Ginny saw red.

"You arsehole!" she exclaimed. "What the hell would you know about my friends?"

"The same amount as you'd know about mine," he replied. Ginny flushed as she remembered some of the more unsavoury things she'd said about Draco's friendship with Crabbe and Goyle in the past.

"Just leave them out of it," she muttered, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Why do you want to pick on me about everything, anyway?"

"Why not? You're a Weasley," he said tauntingly.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Ginny snapped. "You've picked on my friends, my work, my family – anything else? Would you like me to perhaps suggest things? Maybe my hair? The way I walk? The size of my arse? What I eat for breakfast?" Her breath was coming in hot, angry gasps now as she tried to contain her anger at him. He's just trying to rile you up, she told herself. Remain calm.

Draco ticked them off on his fingers. "Your hair is too red, you walk with an uneven gait, your arse is reasonably proportioned though I can't say I spend too much time looking and from what I see at breakfast time, all you eat is toast and pumpkin juice so yeah, maybe you should be looking for a bit more variety in your diet."

Ginny snapped her book closed. "Do I have to get up and go inside or are you going to leave?" she asked in a low voice.

Draco smirked. "I'll go," he said. "Wouldn't want to trouble you."

Ginny muttered several expletives as he wandered away, scratching the back of his neck absently. He was such a pain, and seemed to gain such pleasure from riling her up. It was beginning to grate on Ginny's nerves. The sooner he left her alone, the better. In fact, the sooner her work could be over and she could move back to the wizarding world and hopefully never see him again – much the better!

_Marigold could not stop crying all at once, but she sat up and blew her nose. "Oh, Aunty Marigold – really?"_

"_Yes, really. Father said to me, 'I am disappointed in you,' and _I _said 'I wouldn't care for that if I wasn't disappointed in myself."_

"_That's how I feel, too," Marigold whispered. "And then Beulah--"_

"_Never mind the Beulahs. You'll find heaps of them in life. The only thing to do is ignore them. Beulah would make an excellent mouse-trap but if she tried for a hundred years she couldn't look as sweet and pretty as you did, standing up there with your puzzled blue eyes. And when you screwed them shut--"_

"_Oh, I saw such funny things, Aunt Marigold!" cried Marigold, bursting into a peal of laughter. Aunt Marigold's little bit of artful flattery was a pick-me-up. It was true poor Beulah was very plain. Oh, how nice to be with some one who just understood and loved. Nothing seemed so disgraceful any more. A truce to vain regrets. She'd show them another time. And here was Lucifer and Salome with a plate of hop-and-go-fetch-its. _

An hour later, Ginny heard a noise behind her and craned her head to see Draco walking toward her with a statue in his hands. Completely ignoring her, he walked over to the fishpond and placed the statue in front of a bush. He rustled the foliage about, framing it naturally and stepped back to admire his handiwork. He darted forward only once to readjust a small branch of yellowing leaves. Mystified, Ginny watched him walk back past her and walk into the house. She turned her gaze back to the small statue and squinted. What on earth _was_ it? She cast a look back at the house and saw to her relief that Draco had disappeared. She put her book aside and got up from the lounge chair, stretching her arms way above her head. She wandered casually over to the statue, her gaze analysing it carefully.

It was a small statute and seemed to be of some human-like figure dressed in badly mismatched, bright clothes. She knelt down in front of it. It was a little man; a dwarf, perhaps, with a white beard and a rounded hat. She frowned as she looked at the face. No, not a dwarf... a gnome! It was a very crude depiction of a gnome. No gnome would ever dress so appallingly, she felt sure. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she considered the reasons why Draco would place one of these in the backyard. A glimpse of something rounded and small in the gnome's mouth caught her attention and she leaned forward, trying to identify it. Some sort of lolly, perhaps, or—

"Bog off, ugly!" a mechanical voice barked suddenly from within the gnome. Ginny fell back in fright and stared at the gnome, her mouth agape. Somewhere from inside the house, she could hear Draco howling with laughter. She got to her feet crossly and stomped back to her lounge chair, snatching up her book and settling back in the chair. Her heart was pounding from the shock. What _was_ that thing?

A pair of arms suddenly slid around Ginny's neck and she snapped. "You idiot!" she bit out.

"What did I do now?" Harry asked good-humouredly.

"Harry!" Ginny twisted her head around to see him smiling blissfully down at her. "Merlin's beard, I thought you were Draco."

"Oh?" His tone was mild. "Is he in the habit of putting his arms around you?"

Ginny cracked a smile. "No, but he--" She pointed to the gnome. "He put that there, and it played a trick on me. I thought it was him coming out to laugh at me."

Harry frowned. "I see." He walked over to the gnome and squatted down in front of it. _"Bog off, ugly!"_ it could clearly be heard to exclaim. Harry smirked as he got up and faced her. "A harmless Muggle garden gnome statue, Gin," he explained as he approached. He knelt down beside her chair, inches away from her face. He smiled at her and she returned it tentatively. "It's got a sensor in its mouth so that it knows when someone is there and it can insult them."

"What a useless acquisition," Ginny remarked sourly.

Harry laughed. "It does seem a bit pointless," he agreed. "Sounds like you and Draco are having some fun." He was so close to her now that his breath was tickling her skin.

Ginny was doing her best to ignore his close presence. "I wouldn't put it like that."

"Wouldn't you?" He leaned forward and pressed feather-light kisses on her cheek. "How would you put it then?"

Ginny was frowning, gazing off into the distance. _Was_ the exchange with Draco something that he considered fun? If you subtracted the viciousness behind the comments, it could be like any regular banter she conducted with her brothers. And that troubled her. She sighed suddenly and Harry stopped kissing her.

"Troubles, love?" he asked kindly.

Ginny shook her head. "I dunno." She locked gazes with him for an instant and then flicked hers away. "I guess not."

"Want to hang out with me for the rest of the evening?" Harry asked, almost shyly. "The sun's nearly gone so I figure you'd have to go inside soon anyway."

Ginny eyed him. "What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"A walk on a beach?" he suggested.

Ginny smiled. "Far away from here?" _Far away from Draco?_

"Paris?" Harry teased. "Australia?"

Ginny's grin broadened. "How far can you Apparate?"


End file.
